


All is Found

by NobleSenpapiChulo, WantSomeSaladWithYourCroutons



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ALL THE GAY, Adult Dipper Pines, Adult Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines, Alternate Universe - American Revolution, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bill Cipher needs a hug, Bubonic Plague, Car Accidents, Death, Dipper dies but he comes back (a lot), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Frozen II lyrics are referenced, Hanging, Harry Potter quoted (blink and you'll miss it), Human Bill Cipher, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder, Not Really Character Death, Older Dipper Pines, Parent-Child Relationship, Plague, Suicide, Swearing, THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING WE PROMISE, Teenage Dipper Pines, Temporary Character Death, Third degree burns, Violent Deaths, War, alcohol drinkage, bill is immortal, death of children but it's not graphic I promise, dipper is a good dad, dipper is a pure and sweet boy, dipper is immortal but keeps dying, dipper's mom is a saint in every life, doctor bill, flower shop owner dipper, high school dipper, incorrect diagnosis of schizophrenia, not period typical homophobia, painter dipper, referenced tony/steve (not a cross-over though sorry), so many fandom references, this is a HOMOnormative world because we said so, this is like scientifically formulated to be like gay fanfiction ahoy, we tried to be historically accurate except for the gays, young dipper pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23918683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleSenpapiChulo/pseuds/NobleSenpapiChulo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantSomeSaladWithYourCroutons/pseuds/WantSomeSaladWithYourCroutons
Summary: The people of Salem believed in the legend of the Hanging Tree: those hung on the tree will have their souls purified. Any child in Salem found to have a constellation birthmark was deemed a Cursed Child and taken to be hung.The child was born cursed, his mother knew this very well. The constellation markings didn’t lie, her son was a born sinner. For that he was damned and he would be executed if he was ever found out.Or, the one where William Cipher sacrifices his own death for the rebirth of his lost love, forever living only to lose him again and again through many lifetimes.
Relationships: Bill Cipher & Dipper Pines, Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines
Comments: 16
Kudos: 108





	1. There's a river full of memories

**Author's Note:**

> Lowkey notice for everyone. But momma Noble here is not a one-trick pony. 
> 
> Translation: I’ve written other stories (Billdip stories) feel free to read them, leave comments and kudos. They fuel my red-bull induced 3 am binge writing.

_1665,_ _Massachusetts_

The child was born cursed, his mother knew this very well. The constellation markings didn’t lie, her son was a born sinner. For that he was damned and he would be executed if he was ever found out. 

But looking into the new born baby's brilliantly shining chocolate eyes, Sarah could see no evil. She could raise her son pure, holy, and kind. She just had to hide that accursed mark. Sarah reached over to the basket of yarn and began weaving until she had made a hat that snuggly fit his tiny head.

She could hide this, it was on his forehead after all. He’d keep his bangs long and it would be alright, everything would be alright. The tiny infant began to wiggle in her arms as he began to wail and her eyes went wide as she began rocking him softly.

“Shh, shh, shh. There, there my little Mason, you’re alright.” She whispered gently as she swayed. His fusing continued and she let out a sigh. 

“Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memories. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound.” His cries quieted as he began drifting to sleep in her arms. She smiled, placing a small kiss on the forehead of his hat. “For in this river all is found.” She placed him down in his crib and watched as he curled into his blanket. The fire crackled quietly as she took a seat in the rocking chair beside his bassinet, her gaze falling to her sleeping son.

Sarah knew right then, in that moment, that she’d do anything to protect her son. She’d seen children dragged away for the marks, taken to the hanging tree. The people of their town believed it purified the soul’s of the ‘damned’. But now, she knew better. Those children were innocent, born with a terrible mark that none of them deserved.

\--------------

_1670,_ _Massachusetts_

Mason never left the house much before the age of ten, and whenever he did it was with his mother and an itchy cap on his head. Coming out from his bedroom he pushed his hair back and sat at the table. His mother was still at the fireplace cooking as she hummed a light tune. 

She turned around and nearly let out a shriek as she saw his mark plain as day. She rushed over and brushed his hair over the top. Tears streamed down her face as she did so.

“Momma, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, as he reached out for her cheek brushing away the tears with his still chubby fingers.

“Baby, you can never show your mark to anyone, even if it's just around me. Someone else might see it.” She begged him. 

“But why?” Mason asked, with all the innocent confusion of a five year old who didn’t understand why he always had to hide his birthmark.

“Because, there are some very scary people who are afraid of your special mark. They’re afraid because it’s different. Because it makes you different.”

Mason nodded in understanding. He was such a smart and sweet boy for his age, Sarah thought. 

“So promise me baby, that you’ll never show your mark to anyone, okay? _Never._ Promise me.” She demanded.

“Okay, momma. I promise.” Mason said solemnly.

“That’s a good boy.” She said, stroking his hair again and making sure the birthmark was covered. “Now eat your food, you’ll need it to grow big and strong my precious son.”

\-------------

_1681_ , _Massachusetts_

Many years passed as Mason began to grow more and more. When he was sixteen they found another child. She was only eight at the time with a mark on her forearm. A stupid mistake led to her death. She had been playing outside with her friends and she rolled up her sleeves to combat the heat without thinking and she had been spotted.

Dragged away crying by the council, she was taken to the hanging tree.

Mason was horrified. A small child was just dragged off without any regard for her parents, her mothers both wailing as they were held back. The little girl screamed and wailed until she was out of sight and ear shot. 

The brunette went back home in shock. He let the door slam behind him. His eyes met his mother's confused gaze and he broke down, the teen sobbing in her arms as he cried for one of his own. The cursed. 

“Mother, why, why do they do this? What do they have to gain from killing us?” He asked softly. He heard the woman sigh as he looked up to her heartbroken gaze.

“I don’t know my son,” She said as she placed a kiss on his forehead. “It’s murder, plain and simple. They’re just frightened and fear makes people act irrationally. I’m so, so, sorry my dear Mason.” She murmured as her son continued to cry in her arms. 

\-----------

_1683_ , _Massachusetts_

Mason at eighteen was a determined young man. He was sick and fed up with the accursed hangings of these innocent children. Something needed to be done, and if the people in town weren’t gonna do it, then it was up to him. 

He heard the screams of another little girl crying out in the night. Both he and his mother watched from the window as the council pulled her from her father's arms and a few other civilians held back her papa. 

Once the council had passed and civilians were back in their homes, the sobs of the girl and her fathers still echoing in his mind, Mason pulled his cloak off the rack and ran out into the barely lit streets. He ran and ran tailing after them trying to catch up to the girl. After a few minutes he finally caught sight of the jailers wagon. A lone child sat in the back crying her eyes out as she gripped the bars so hard her knuckles were turning white. He carefully hoisted himself up and put a finger to his lips to keep her quiet. She nodded as he reached up pulling the pin out of the lock. The door swung open and he scooped her up into his arms before jumping off.

He dashed off the road and into the dense forest and seconds later he heard shouting. He was so screwed if he was caught, but the little girl clinging to his neck made him move even faster. 

In the ever growing distance he spotted a small house, a torch lit outside resting in a holder beside the door. With the shouts of a tiny mob behind him, he’d have to risk it. Mason ran to the door and pounded on it quickly. He heard footsteps before the door swung open. A taller blonde man opened the door, he looked confused as Mason tried his best to keep his exhausted grip on the little girl. 

“Please help us, it’ll only be for a little bit,” He begged. The sound of barking joined the shouts; this was turning into a god forsaken witch hunt. “Please.” The blonde nodded and stepped aside quickly. Mason rushed past him and heard the bolt on the front door click shut. 

He stopped in front of the hearth and set the little girl down. He kneeled down and pulled his cape off placing it around her shoulders as she clung to his chest. He heard a small gasp and he turned to the blonde who looked at him surprised. That’s when it hit him. Her mark, _his_ mark! Mason’s hand flew to his forehead as he realized he had pushed his bangs back on accident. 

“Oh no! Please don’t tell anyone!”


	2. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked the small girl. Through the sniffles the small brunette answered. “Primrose”

The blonde man walked over to the pair and gave a soft smile to the little girl. “Do you want a place to sleep?” He asked her. She gave him a nod and followed as he led her over to a queen size bed in a room over. He tucked her in before walking back over to Mason who was wearing his flooring down with his incessant pacing. 

“Bloody hell, will you calm down for just a moment.” He drawled, causing Mason to stop. The brunette turned to him like a deer that’d just been shot at. A sigh left the blonde who gestured for him to take a seat at the table. Mason did so as his mysterious helper did as well.

“My name is William Cipher, and you are?” William inquired. 

“Mason- Mason Patterson.” Mason managed to get out around his nerves. 

“Mason, what a beautiful name. Now tell me Mason, what on earth are you and that poor child running from?” William asked both curious and concerned.

“We’re cursed children,” Mason said as if it should have been obvious. “I just saved her from hanging tonight.” 

“Oh. Well that explains your absolute panic.” William deadpanned. 

“You aren’t going to turn us into the mob?” Mason asked with confusion. A chuckle left the blonde’s lips as he leaned onto his folded hands. 

“No dear, on the contrary. I’d like to help you.” William stated. Mason looked at him flabbergasted, he tried to conjure up some lengthy response but only came out with. 

“What?”

“Need me to tell you in French?” The blonde remarked as he cocked his head to the side. Mason shook his head.

“No, that isn’t necessary. But, why? Why help us?” Mason demanded. A loud groan came from William’s lips.

“Because the story behind the cursed children is absolute gobshite, you and I both know that. Half of the bloody town knows this, but they’re afraid of the god forsaken council and too terrified to stand up to them,” William paused and stood up. “You’d think after they started hanging children in the trees they’d revolt, but no. I swear this place is worse than England.” He moved to the little kitchen cabinet and pulled out a small tin, he turned to Mason.

“Tea?” Mason nodded as William poured water from the pitcher into the small pot next to the fireplace, he swung the crane to let it boil and turned back to the brunette. 

Suddenly, there was a loud knock that sounded on the door, causing Mason to flinch violently. William glanced from the young man, to the door, and back. “Go hide.” William whispered. Mason nodded silently. 

William made sure that Mason was safely in the other room before walking to the door and opening it. He made sure to show that he was annoyed. “What the bloody hell do you want at this time of night?” He demanded. “Don’t you know that people are trying to sleep?” He asked the four men before him - husbands Scott and Baron Von Northwest, Roger Valentino, and Preston Gleeful, joined by a pair of dogs growling lightly. 

“Sorry to disturb ya, we have a missing child we’re looking for. Around four years old. We think someone may’ve taken her. Seen anyone around?” Baron asked, the man a fiery redhead was a tad older than William. He was tall around six feet even, decent build and an aggressive temper to match his mop of hair. William looked at them like they were stupid. This was just royally pissing him off now. It was one thing to have a beautiful brunette show up, but four bulky and disgusting looking men who just reeked was an entirely different story. 

“Are you bloody kidding me? It is the middle of the night and a new moon, of course I haven’t seen anyone. It’s pitch black out there.” He drawled in irritation. The four looked at him like he had just insulted the virgin Mary herself and the one who spoke let out a cough.

“Alrighty, thank ya for ya time. We’ll be going now.” Baron said quickly as he pulled Scott away with the others. He watched from his doorstep until he could no longer see the torch lights in the distance. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he shut the door; he shut the latch and slid the bolt into place. 

He left his place beside the door and made his way towards his bedroom. He looked inside and felt his insides warm as a smile crossed his lips. Mason was passed out beside the little girl sound asleep. William stepped inside and pulled the blanket up from the end of the bed gently draping it across the two before shutting the curtain behind him.

With the thought of tea long forgotten he made up his mind and went for the door. He pulled his cloak off the peg and lit the lantern. He stepped outside locking the door behind him as a precaution. He made his way out to the small stable and saddled his horse. With a snap of the reigns he made his way quickly into town.

Under the cover of night he made his way to the only house with a candle lit in the window. He approached and knocked on the door. William heard muffled sniffles before the door opened to reveal a disheveled looking blonde haired man, definitely more built and taller than William was.

“Mr. Rogers, may I come in? I have some news about your daughter.” He whispered softly for even in the middle of the night, the walls had ears. He nodded and stepped aside allowing the shorter blonde to pass. As he stepped inside he pulled his hood off and maneuvered his ponytail back onto his left shoulder.

“What do you know?” He asked quickly as soon as the door shut. William turned to him and sighed.

“My umm… partner was able to save your daughter from the hangings. They’re out searching right now but she is safe in my home with my partner.” William explained watching the man’s face light up with joy. 

“If you two are prepared to leave this place behind, I can take you to her.” He added quickly. The man eagerly nodded, and quickly left to wake his spouse. William waited outside as they quickly loaded their wagon and saddled up their horses. Once they had finished, the three set out back into the woods.

A short ride later and a tearful reunion of the parents with their sleepy daughter, William gave them a map and instructions to give to the friend of his that they’d be going to stay with until they made a new place for themselves in Virginia. 

William let out a satisfied sigh as he watched them ride away, a feeling of warmth dancing in his chest as he locked the door behind him. He turned and made his way across the living room before looking into the bedroom, his new found guest still sound asleep. He let the curtain close and made his way into the living room. His rocking chair had never looked so inviting before. He took a seat and was out like a light.


	3. For in this river, all is found

_1691,_ _Massachusetts_

The seasons changed in eight rotations and passed through the small town bringing their beautiful colors and freezing chill. William and Mason courted much longer than many had expected - two years - and were finally married by the end of the second spring. They loved each other deeply and there were not many things that the pair argued about. Only one topic came up repeatedly leading to heated debates: Mason’s hero complex.

Over the four years they had been wed, they’d managed to save over twenty children from the hanging tree. The council was getting furious and began bringing more and more people to walk with the transport, making it harder and harder each time as they rounded up more and more children to hang. 

On one such evening they’d captured three children who were sentenced to hang at midnight. William of course knew Mason was planning to go but that’d didn’t stop the ensuing argument. 

“You cannot go.” William demanded as he slammed his hand on the front door. Mason who’d been reaching for the latch flinched and looked up to his husband, his eyes full of rage.

“What do you bloody mean I can’t go?” He retorted as he tried to pull the latch. The door wouldn’t budge and he let out an aggravated sigh.

“Mason, this is suicide, practically the whole town will be there. I’m sorry but we can’t save them this time. It’s too dangerous.” William let out a sigh as he looked to his husband in concern. A scoff left Mason’s lips as he rolled his eyes.

“Too dangerous? My entire life I’ve lived in danger and constant fear. I will not let them kill innocent children.” He said fiercely. 

“Mason, think for just one moment, there’s too many people, you’ll be caught within moments. I don’t want you doing this, please.” William begged. 

“I am going, William. I’m sorry but nothing is going to change my mind about this. You cannot stop me.”

“Fine then, I won’t try to stop you.” William turned and pulled the door open. He brushed passed Mason as he stepped onto the porch. “Just don’t expect me to be here when you come home.” He made his way over to the stables as Mason stepped onto the porch, he crossed his arms as William rode out from the barn. 

“What?”  
  


“Well I figured if you’re going to make a gobshite decision, I might as well make one too. I have a meeting with the rest of the All Seeing Eyes. Have fun on your suicide mission, dear.” William drawled before snapping the reins and disappearing from his husband's view.

Mason was seething as William’s figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Screw him! Mason didn’t need his help, he could do this on his own and prove to William he could on his own, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong.

Mason had done well. He managed to free the children before they began transporting. But they’d been spotted while fleeing. On the outskirts of town, the families were waiting for him, already to go once they got their children. 

He held on tight to the one clinging to his chest with one arm. The second youngest was holding his free hand, while the oldest was holding on to the back of his cape so he wouldn’t be left behind. As he pulled them through the brush, thorns and sticks nicked him here and there. In the distance was the clearing and with a final push they’d made it. Mason rushed over helping the children into the wagons as he heard shouting in the distance as the sun began to set.

“Mason please come with us, we can’t leave you here.” One of the mothers told him as she grabbed his shoulder. He looked up to her and smiled.

“I’ll be alright Marcy, I can out run them no problem. Now go, all of you. You need to hurry, they’ll be here any minute now!” He shouts to the families as he hears the snapping of reigns and watches as the three families disappear down a back road path. 

“Thank you!” A woman called out as she and her husband faded from view. He waved back before darting into the woods. 

Mason heard the barking of the dogs as they grew closer. He was growing more and more tired as he tried to ditch them. The exhausted young man ran and ran until his foot snagged causing him to land in a rather large puddle from the on and off rain they’d had all day. A pair of hands seized his shoulders as they pulled him from the freezing water. A loud series of gasps rang out before angry shouting began as a rope wrapped around his wrists.

_“He’s a cursed child!”_

_“Hang him!”_ _  
  
_

_“Make him pay for the sins of those who escaped!”_   
  


That’s all the council needed to hear. He already had the mark so his fate was sealed and the noose placed around his neck. 

The crowd dragged him to the hanging tree, the place where all the others before him had died. Each younger and younger than the last - some even weeks old when they were hung. The legend around the tree was that it would purify the souls of the damned if they were hung here. 

The rope was tightened and they forced the brunette onto a barrel. Tears streamed down his cheeks as they tossed the rope across a limb high above his head. Mason closed his eyes and began to pray, as futile as it was. 

“Mason!” The voice of his childhood shouted, but instead of calm and loving - it was high pitched and scared. _Momma_?

“Stop!” He heard another all too familiar voice shout out as well. His eyes snapped open and he looked into the distance to see the last person he wanted to see in this moment.

William.

_It’s okay my love, no matter how many times fate keeps us apart, I will always find you. I love you William, no matter how many times it takes. We will be together again._ Mason hoped his words would reach his husband's heart as he felt the platform disappear from beneath his feet.

A scream of horror left the blonde’s lips as he saw his husband’s body dangle lifelessly from the tree. He pushed passed the crowd and pulled his dagger from his waist. He ran over and cut the rope catching his husband in his arms. The crowd merely watched in shock as he knelt down cradling Mason to his chest. 

He was alive. But barely. He had, maybe minutes - seconds left.

“Mason - oh my god I-I,” He never got the chance to apologize as Mason wearily reached up, gently caressing his cheek.

“I love you Will-” His breathing died out as the light left his eyes. William’s breathing became ragged as he heard Mason’s mother shouting at the spectators as she pushed passed them. She broke through them, sobbing and rushed over. She cradled Mason’s head in her lap as William stood up, his eyes dark as he looked to the men of the council. 

“You did this,” He said in a broken whisper. He turned from the four to address the crowd. “You all let this happen!” He shouted, his hands shaking in anger as his grip on his knife turned white. “By doing nothing, every single one of you took an active part in the horrid crimes that have happened here!” 

“You killed my husband, the only man in this town with enough common sense to know that murdering children for a damn birthmark is bloody mental!” He turned away from the crowd and back to the council, his eyes catching the moonlight and reflecting off the dagger.

“I think it’s time that I repay you for all of the unparalleled acts of violence that have happened at this tree.” It took a mere second for his mind to calculate his decision. Without anything to stop him, he lunged. Striking Preston, his blade cut deep along the side of his neck. Screams echoed through the air, filling him with satisfaction as the crowd scattered.

He danced around the now collapsed corpse and went for the second, striking down on Roger’s back as he keeled over in pain. As he tried to get back up the knife was plunged deep into his chest and pulled out. William looked around for the remaining two. Baron ran to the woods, he chased after Baron and lunged as the red head turned to face him. William slashed Baron across the face - cutting a large gash from his left eyebrow to the right corner of his lip. 

A rock smashed into his shoulder as he was about to give a final strike, William spun around to see Scott who quickly turned and ran down the road. The blonde began sprinting down the road and caught the last one in the back. He embedded the knife into Scott's back as he strangled out a cry, the last words on his lips the name of the final councilman and his husband. 

“William! Stop!” He heard a voice call out. He began stalking towards the woods when a hand grabbed his arm stopping him. He turned aimed to swing his blade and halted when he saw it was Sarah, Mason’s mother. 

“You can’t do this, don’t turn into them. I know you loved my son dearly, but he is gone. Don’t jeopardize your future with him in heaven.”

“Heaven,” He scoffed and broke free from her grip. “I didn’t get to spend enough time with him when he was here on earth.” He told her as he bent down. He pulled at Scott’s collar and began dragging him towards the tree.

“What on earth are you doing?” Sarah cried out as he tossed the corpse at the base of the tree. He ignored her as he dragged the other two bodies over to lay beside Scott. He dipped his finger into an ever growing pool of blood and began drawing a rune around the base of the tree. He looked over to see her watching him in a confused shock.

“Heaven doesn’t matter to me now, Sarah.” He said in answer to her question.

He looked around for a few moments before moving to grab a few coils of rope from the pile they’d left for the children that Mason had helped escape. William made his way back back to the bodies and tied a noose around each of their necks and strung them up in the tree. He stepped back as they dangled in the air, a smirk gracing his lips as he watched the blood from their bodies pool inside the runes. 

William gently picked up Mason’s body placing it at the center of the rune. He stepped back letting words of Latin flow from his lips as he slit his palm letting the blood drop onto his point of the rune. The tree lit up a brilliant blue as the blood in the runes seeped into the ground. At the same time he began to whisper - his wish, his desire, his hope for the future to come. The response came through his mind like a whisper on the wind, a voice soft and gentle.

_“Can you handle that? An existence full of pain and suffering, not just for you but for him as well?”_

William looked down from his gaze on the tree to Mason’s lifeless body, a sole tear trailing down his face. He gave a nod before facing the tree once more as its shimmering blue grew brighter.

_“In exchange for your mortal soul, your death shall be mine. For you both, eternal life. He’ll be immortal like you, yet vulnerable to death, unlike you. These are my terms. Do you accept?”_

**“Yes.”**


	4. In her waters, deep and true

_ 1720 - Marseille, France.  _

  
  


Mason Parish was dying, he knew this very early on. The fever and the chills that ran across his spine didn’t lie. His mother had gotten sick after going to the market; she brought it home with her and had died nearly a week ago. 

Mason had wanted to be a sailor, just like his father had been. He wanted to go out and explore the world, to see everything life had to offer. Mason wanted to get married, have a family, and enjoy his life.

Yet here he was, lying on an uncomfortable mattress, his eyes bandaged after his sight had left him shortly after getting sick. His body ached as he listened to the nuns rushing around him tending to other patients.

Mason hadn’t expected to live until he was old and gray, but he never planned to die at fifteen either. The plague was the last thing he’d been expecting.

“Mr. Parish, how are you doing?” A deep and soothing voice asked. It sounded so familiar but he couldn’t place where he’d heard it before. A gentle hand grabbed his, holding it softly.

“I’m in a lot of pain my friend, I just pray you don’t get this as well.” Mason remarked as he shifted on the bed.

“My name is Doctor Cipher, I’ll be taking care of you.” The man added softly. Mason nodded his head and felt pain ripple through his neck. He let out a sigh, turning towards the direction he heard the doctor’s voice come from.

“Well since you know my last name, I assume you know my first but I’ll tell ya anyway. Mason, Mason Parish.” He said with a smile giving the doctor a handshake. He heard a soft sigh come from the doctor and a small snapping sound which he assumed came from a pocket watch.

“Is there anything I can get you before I move onto my next patient?” He asked. Mason sat in thought for a moment before he replied.

“It’s stupid….but if you could get me a notebook, a quill and some ink I’d appreciate it.” He replied softly.

“It’s not stupid, and I’d be happy to get it for you.”

\-----------

_ May 21st, 1720 _

_ I haven’t seen doctor Cipher yet today, although one of the nuns did give me a notebook and writing equipment. It did take me a while to figure out how to write with a bandage over my eyes, but somehow I’ve managed to pull it off. That said, I am curious to learn more about Doctor Cipher. Bertrum - the man in the bed beside me - said he seemed to be from the colonies and married, or at least he was. Bertrum said he wore a pair of rings on a thread around his neck. I think I’ll ask him about it when I see him. Bertrum is suffering the same as me, though he’s been sick longer than I have. He’s told me that the sickness has left his face pretty scarred. _

_ May 22nd, 1720 _

_ I did end up asking Doctor Cipher about the rings yesterday - his voice went very somber as he told me about his husband, now deceased - Mason Cipher. He told me that he’d left the colonies to come back home to Marseille after his husband was accused of being a witch. His husband was subsequently hung in the Salem witch trials. Doctor Cipher said it saddened him too much to be there, especially after Mason’s mother was killed by a maniac. I feel so sorry for him, he deserves so much happiness that I wish I could give him.  _

_ May 23rd, 1720 _

_ One of the sisters was whispering about the average time it takes each person to die, which is six days; I believe I am on day four. Bertrum died yesterday. The pain has grown as the nights have passed and I’ve begun to cough up blood, as well as develop a nasty headache. A sister tried what she called ‘bloodletting’ today and it is a horrible treatment which I don’t think works. Doctor Cipher freaked out at her when he found out she’d done it, saying it just kills people even faster. He remained by my side for the remainder of the day after that, claiming it was just to make sure I was alright. He held my hand softly for a good amount of time that he was with me. I enjoy the warmth it brings to my chest when he does so.  _

  
  


_ May 24th, 1720 _

_ I’ve lost a lot of feeling in my limbs. Doctor Cipher said it’s because of how the plague works. He sounded very sad when he said it too and he sat with me again, today. I asked him more about his life in the colonies. He told me about why they believed Mason to be a witch, because of his strange birthmark. One very similar to my own. I joked with him about how I was thankful not to have been born in the colonies and he told me that one day he may go back there. That it was not as bad as it seemed, that Salem was just a terrible place to be. I hope one day he’ll be happy again. He deserves to be happy.  _

William held tightly onto Mason’s hand as he sat up from the bed, coughing blood. The blonde eased him back onto the mattress and wiped the blood from the young boy's face. 

He knew Mason was close to death. He was fading in and out of consciousness, saying things that didn’t make much sense. This was devastating for William. After Salem, he wasn’t sure when he’d see Mason again. When he finally found him, he was dying of the plague. How utterly wonderful.

“I have something to confess to you, Doctor,” Mason said hoarsely before he began coughing again. “Even though I’ve only known you for a few days, I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life. Thank you for all that you’ve done to care for me.”

“Of course, my dear.” William replied before placing a gentle kiss to Mason’s birthmark.

“I hope Doctor Cipher, that you can find someone who makes you truly happy.” Mason whispered as his breathing became shallower and shallower until he was no longer breathing at all. 

“You did, you do, and you always will make me the happiest man in the world, Mason. I’ll find you again, I promise.”


	5. Lie the answers and a path for you

_ 1781, Virginia _

Mason Pascale was born in 1759, right in the middle of the French and Indian war. His father, Alden Pascale, died shortly after he was born during the Battle of Quebec, leaving his wife, Emeline, to raise their son alone. 

Emeline and Alden hadn’t always lived in Virginia. Both had been born in England and Alden had been a large believer and supporter of the king. That was until he met Emeline and fell in love. English law refused to marry them even though there was no legitimate reason not to. The law was based on bigotry and the more Alden scrutinized how the king ruled, the more things he noticed that didn’t quite sit well with him. So he asked Emeline to come away with him, to the colonies where the marriage laws were more laxed. 

Under the secrecy of the church they married, eventually having a son within that same year.

Their little boy, Mason Pascale.

Mason was 16 when the Revolutionary War started and he immediately enlisted to fight the redcoats, lying about his age, much to the displeasure of his mother. 

Through many battles over the years beside General Washington - the man who became a like father to him - he made his way up the ladder becoming a Major General right beneath him. 

Every soldier knew that where Washington was, Pascale was too. The two worked in sync coordinating many of their battle strategies together. 

On that fateful night before battle Washington said: “We need someone to take out redoubt no. 10. Normally I’d have you lead it but I need you with me.” George remarked looking from the map to Mason. The brunette was pensive as he moved a few pieces across the map.

“Colonel Hamilton.” He muttered, catching George’s attention. He looked up to meet the General’s gaze.

“Do you think he can handle it?” He asked. Mason nodded.

“I do. He’s eager to prove himself and Layfette will be taking no. 9.” Mason moved a piece in front of the tiny soldier group piece. “Besides, if he goes trench, no bullets just bayonets, nothing can go wrong. I believe he’d be perfect.” He moved the two pieces knocking over the red coat piece. 

“I’ll inform him. Good thinking Pascale.” He remarked before leaving the tent. Mason looked over the map of Yorktown, his mind figuring out the many ways the battle could go.

Mason Pascale didn’t know it yet, but he was about to die in the most important battle of the American Revolutionary War to date. 

\------------

_ October 28, 1781 _

In a mutual place, General Washington and Major General Pascale led the American troops to receive a parole signed by Cornwallis and his men to officially cease fire on American soldiers. Mason looked back upon the faces of his soldiers, mostly happy though beaten, battered, and a bit bruised. A smile landed on his face as he turned to look ahead once more. 

“What’s got you so happy, Mason?” George asked as he looked over at the brunette. 

A soft smile played on his lips. “This is almost over. We’re almost free.” He replied looking ahead. In the distance was one of the last British camps in America and soon it would be gone for good.

Washington raised his hand, halting their movement. A hundred feet ahead was Cornwallis with his Major General - a red headed fellow - and behind them was the last of their army.

Mason and the General dismounted, both passing their reigns off to the soldiers beside them. The pair made their way over to meet Cornwallis and his Major General in the middle of the field. In the opposing general’s hand was the golden tinted document.

“General Washington, Major General Pascale.” Cornwallis greeted them with an unpleasant expression on his face.

“General Cornwallis, Major General Von Holt.” George responded as he held his hand out for Cornwallis to shake. The man let out a sigh giving the American general a handshake. He handed over the parole of ceasefire which Washington passed over to Mason who looked it over. 

He turned to Washington giving him a nod. The man smiled as he withdrew his hand, giving the general a thank you before they turned around.

That’s when a gunshot echoed through the air. No one had time to react as Major General Pascale went stumbling to the ground. Washington kneeled beside him as their army rushed toward them, bayonets in hand as the British behind them fled. 

Colonel Hamilton was barking orders quickly as they chased after the British soldiers. He looked to Washington, still kneeled by Mason’s side in shock.

“Hamilton, go get the doctor, quickly!” He nearly shouted. The raven haired man nodded and quickly rode into Yorktown hoping to find the doctor - who in turn could help the man who helped Hamilton prove himself. 

Minutes went by as Mason slowly felt his life melt like a wax candle. His gaze transfixed on how blue the sky was that day. “Make way for the doctor!” A voice shouted.

Mason slowly turned his head, his eyes locking with an all too familiar pair of golden eyes. He felt like something began constricting his neck before he began coughing violently, blood coming up with it. 

“William…” He muttered softly as the blonde ran over. William dropped by his side and immediately placed pressure on the chest wound. Yet he could only watch as Mason’s life slipped away faster and faster. 

“No, no, no, you can’t die on me!” He cried out as his gaze met Mason’s. The brunette held a small smile of pain on his face as he reached out, gently caressing William’s cheek.

“It’s okay my love, no matter how many times fate keeps us apart, I will always find you. I love you, William. No matter how many times it takes, we will be together again.” He whispered softly as his eyes began to close. “I promise.” Mason’s hand went limp, falling to his chest. 

Tears fell down William’s face as once again, his world turned upside down. 


	6. Dive down deep into her sound

_ 1914-1918, New York _

The Golden Egg wasn’t a classy joint by any means but it certainly wasn’t no dump either. The bar had belonged to Samuel Percy before his death in the war in 1915 and the establishment was then passed down to his wife, Laura. 

Mason was 15, shy, and small when the war started. He was 16, gangly, and awkward when his father died. He was 17, tall, and sure footed when he both fell in love and had his heart broken for the first time. He was 18, strong, and confident (just like his father) when he enlisted in the war. 

He was also 18 and dumb when he drank so much he couldn’t remember what had happened the night before, the day before he was due to ship out. Well, he figured it out pretty quick what had happened when he woke up next to a blonde and busty woman in an unfamiliar room. He couldn’t even remember her name. 

Mason Percy didn’t know it yet, but he had just helped conceive his daughter. 

The war was over a year after he joined, but he still managed to collect a couple of scars anyway. When he came home to the apartment above the Golden Egg, it was to find his mother soothing a baby no older than a year that had dark brown eyes that were scarily similar to his own. The first words that slipped out of his mouth were: “What the fuck.” 

His mother sat him down and placed the baby in his arms and explained that this was his daughter, Rosemary Percy. She told him how a few months after he left, a woman by the name of Catherine came by looking for him. When Laura explained to her how he had left for the war, the woman started weeping. Laura explained that she was Mason’s mother and the woman told her that she was pregnant with Mason’s baby. 

“And well, Catherine knew she couldn’t take care of her so I offered to take her after she was born. You have to understand darling the girl was all alone. She had no one to support her and she was considering getting rid of the child. I just couldn’t let that happen. It was my grandchild after all.” Laura finished her story, wringing her hands. 

He took the news surprisingly well. 

And that’s how Mason Percy came back from hell on Earth to find himself the father of a beautiful baby girl. 

\--------------

_ 1919, New York  _

Rosemary grew like a weed. In the blink of an eye, she went from a tiny baby to a little roadster who ran everywhere she could. She loved to say “No!” even if the answer was yes and she had her grandfather’s fiery temper. 

Mason was wiping down the top of the bar when he heard the telltale thump of tiny feet on the stairs. He abandoned his task immediately seeing his daughter at the top of the stairs holding on to his mother’s hand as they made their way down, slowly. In her other hand she held a cookie. When Rosemary spotted her father she wiggled in place, shouting “Pah!” 

Mason smiled wide. “There’s my princess!” 

The moment her feet left the final step he scooped her up into the air, twirling her around as she shrieked with happiness. Mason held her close and blew a raspberry on her cheek making her laugh some more. He pressed kisses all over her face, to her nose, her chin, and her cheeks just so he could hear her beautiful laugh all over again. 

Mason never imagined himself as a father. Before Rosemary appeared in his life he hadn’t ever really thought about having kids. He supposed he had been waiting for the right person to settle down with, but that never quite happened. Plus, between raising Rosemary and helping his mother run the Golden Egg, he hardly had time to go out and meet someone new these days.

Besides; although becoming a father hadn’t occurred quite the way he had expected, he wouldn’t trade Rosemary for the world. 

Some nights, when the nightmares were so bad that he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the names of his dead brothers on his tongue, he’d check on her. Seeing her sleeping so peacefully, he sometimes thought that his daughter must have been a gift sent to him from above. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt a tiny hand pat his cheek and then a cookie appeared in front of his face. “You’ve got a cookie, I see.” He murmured. 

Rosemary shook her head. “No. For you.” 

“For me?” Mason feigned surprise. She nodded excitedly giving him a gap-toothed smile. 

“Why thank you, my beautiful girl,” he said, accepting the cookie and taking a bite. Although the cookie was already delicious, he made sure to exaggerate his expression and response just to see her smile again.

“Mmmmmm,” he mumbled around a mouthful. He swallowed before asking, “Did you help nanna make these?” 

She nodded again, excitedly. “I help nanna!”

“You’re my little helper, aren’t you sweetie?” Laura asked from behind her. Rosemary bent slightly backwards in her father’s arms so she was looking at her nanna upside down, causing both adults to laugh. 

“She sure is,” Mason stated. “Thanks for watching her, mom.”

“It’s not a problem, sweetheart.” Laura stated. “In fact, I should take her back upstairs. It’s almost time for her nap. Are you doing alright down here? Any trouble?”

“Nope, no trouble. Not a lot of customers today, anyway.” He answered. He was telling the truth, there really hadn’t been a lot of customers so far. There was a man though that had been lingering at the bar for a while now. Mason remained polite to him, but something about him just made him feel  _ wrong. _ He had a scar running down his face but that wasn’t what made Mason uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“Alright baby girl, you be good for nanna now, alright?” Mason told his daughter and she nodded. “Can I have a kiss?” Rosemary leaned forward giving him a peck on the cheek and Mason beamed. “Thank you, princess. I’ll see you later tonight, okay. And we’ll read your favorite bedtime story.” 

“Bye bye, papa,” Rosemary said, letting out an adorable yawn as Laura scooped her up. 

“See you later, honey,” Laura added as she made her way up the stairs. Mason smiled, watching both of his favorite ladies leave. 

The rest of the day passed slowly. Customers came and went and the only constant was the man with a scar, who Mason supposed was trying to drown his sorrows for something away. But he could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he kept paying for his drinks. 

It was almost time for the Golden Egg to close, and Mason said as much to the man, who replied with: “Share a drink with me, since you’ve been so kind to let me stay for most of the day. It’s on me.” 

Mason considered it before, “Alright. What’ll you have stranger?”

“The name’s Beau Von Stein and I’ll have the same as you,” the man replied. 

“Mason Percy, dry martini’s it is then,” said Mason, quickly getting to work. 

He was in the process of eating the olive from his drink when the door to the bar opened. Mason glanced toward the newcomer taking in a tall blonde man. His eyes widened as he stared into golden eyes. 

Mason inhaled suddenly, too suddenly for he hadn’t finished chewing the olive in his mouth and began coughing. 

The blonde man rushed to Mason’s side, trying to help him dislodge what was stuck in his throat. Mason looked at the man, choking, trying to get his name out as he wheezed in too little air. 

“….ill….” he managed to croak. He wasn’t getting enough air. He couldn’t breathe. Mason started to feel lightheaded as dots spotted his vision. William was saying something but he couldn’t make out the words. His lungs constricted as tears made his vision blurry. 

_ God fucking damnit, _ Mason thought.  _ I’ve been hanged _ ,  _ caught the goddamn plague, been shot, survived the war, and now I’m gonna die by choking on a fucking olive? Jesus Christ.  _

His last thought was of Rosemary’s laugh before death claimed him once more. 


	7. But not too far, or you'll be drowned

_ 1945, New York _

  
  


The child was a born gift, his mother knew this very well. The constellation markings didn’t lie, her son was a born angel. Mason James Parker was born in a time of celebration, right after the end of World War II. He was as healthy as any baby boy could be and his mother couldn’t have been more grateful for it. 

Mason’s father, James Parker, died in The Invasion of Normandy and he was the love of Daliah Parker’s life. Losing him had been the worst heartbreak she had ever experienced and she couldn’t think of anything that could ever be worse. Once she found out she was pregnant with Jimmy’s baby, she had cried for hours. Whether from sadness that he wouldn’t ever be able to see their future baby, or from happiness that she would always have a piece of him with her, she still didn’t know. Maybe it had been a combination of both. 

Either way, there was no point in staying in her and Jimmy’s small home town, where everyone would only give her pitying looks for being both a single mother and a widow. Determined to start fresh, she packed her things and moved to New York City. Jimmy always said he wanted to live there someday, so what better place to raise their child? 

Dahlia was shaken from her thoughts when the sweet baby in her arms began to whine. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes, Daliah fell in love for the second time in her life. Mason James had his father’s eyes. She knew right then, in that moment, that she would do anything to protect her son. 

“Shh, shh. You’re alright my sweet boy. Momma’s got you.” She whispered gently as she slipped down the front of her dress and he began suckling. She let out a soft laugh at how fast he got to business. 

“God bless us if you have your father’s appetite, my darling.” Dahlia sighed at the thought of her Jimmy. 

“Your papa would have loved you so, so much, Mason.” She whispered. “You’re gonna grow up so big and strong and he’ll be so proud of you, sweet boy. I love you with all of my heart.” Mason let out a little yawn. Done eating, he snuggled close to his mother.

“Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memories. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound.” Mason let out another adorable yawn as he began drifting to sleep in her arms, listening to her soft singing. She smiled, placing a small kiss on his forehead, right where his birthmark rested. “For in this river all is found.” She placed him down in his crib and watched as he curled into his blanket. The noise of the City That Never Sleeps sounded quietly from outside their home as she took a seat in the rocking chair beside his bassinet, her gaze falling to her sleeping son. 

“Sweet dreams, my darling.” She whispered before sleep claimed her for its own as well. 

\--------------

_ 1950, New York _

Mason James Parker was dreaming. Again. 

For as long as he could remember, he has always dreamed about the same things. When his momma wakes him up in the morning, his dreams become a blur. The harder he tries to remember, the faster the images slip away from him like sand through his chubby fingers. The one constant, the one memory that has remained crystal clear is the face of a golden eyed man. 

At five years old, Mason was a smart child for his age. His momma had taught him lots of things. He knew not to eat candy off the ground (no matter how yummy it looked), he knew how to use his big boy manners (even if stupid Richie didn’t share his toys when he asked nicely anyway), and he knew to look both ways before crossing the street (mamma didn’t have to remind him every time, he was a big boy who could remember). But most important of all: he knew not to talk, to approach, or talk to strangers. But something about the man from his dreams told him that this stranger was trustworthy. Mason didn’t have any logic to back up this feeling but it was more than just a little boy’s whim. He didn’t know how and he could not comprehend why, but Mason James knew that the man from his dreams would never hurt him, if he was even real. Whenever he brought up his dreams to his momma, she just looked at him fondly and said that he had such an active imagination. 

“Mason, darling, it’s time to get up,” Dahlia whispered as she gently shook her son. As Mason’s tiny fists rubbed sleep from his eyes his current dream was already slipping away. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought it involved a really funny looking bird beak. 

“Did you sleep well, baby?” Dahlia asked as she herded Mason out to the small kitchen where she placed a bowl of oatmeal and strawberries in front of him. The young boy nodded sleepily, humming in appreciation as he gobbled down his breakfast, the dream long forgotten. Dahlia laughed lightly. “Slow down, sweetheart or you’ll accidently choke.” Mason nodded, blushing as he finished his breakfast. 

“Alright. Let’s get cleaned up shall we? After that we’ll walk over to Mrs. Davidson’s house. She’s graciously offered to watch you while I’m at work, okay?”

“But momma,” Mason whined.

“No buts, young man. You’ll get to play with Richie. You like Richie, don’t you?”

“Why can’t I just come with you?” Mason asked petulantly.

“The diner isn’t suited for kids, Mason. You’ll get bored too quickly and get yourself into trouble.” Dahlia said with patience.

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Mason mumbled. “Trouble just finds me.” 

“Need I remind you of the ketchup incident that happened last month?”

“No,” he pouted. 

Dahlia sighed and ruffled his hair. “Come now, or I’ll be late for work.”

Dahlia dropped Mason off at the Davidson’s thanking Martina profusely for watching Mason for the day; Martina just waved her off, saying she was glad to have him over anytime. She gave her son a great big hug and told him to behave before pressing a kiss to his forehead, right over his birthmark. She waved goodbye until the house was out of her sight, making the rest of the way to work quickly. Her boss was a kind woman but she didn’t want to be late nonetheless. 

Work went well for the most part. Besides one or two rude customers, Dahlia’s shift was uneventful. She only had an hour and some odd change left to go when she heard her boss, Francine, shout her name.

“It’s for you,” she said, handing her the diner’s telephone. Dahlia's heart jumped in her chest. There’s only one person who would bother calling her at work and that was Martina.

“Dahlia,” Martina said, sounding breathless. “It’s Mason.”


	8. She will sing to those who hear

_ 1950, New York _

Dahlia’s heart thudded in her chest. “What happened? What’s wrong?” She demanded of her friend. 

“He’s not hurt,” Martina started and Dahlia let out a sigh of relief. “But he got upset, heaven knows why - he and Richie were just playing - locked himself in the bathroom and he won’t come out, no matter what I do.” 

“Give me a moment,” she murmured into the phone, cradling it on her shoulder. She turned to look for Francine only to find her already standing nearby. 

“Mason?” She asked simply. Dahlia nodded. “Go on an’ leave early, Dahl. I’ll get Betty and Ruth to cover the rest of your shift.

“Thank you, Francine.” She nodded. “Really, thank you.” Dahlia uttered gratefully, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, a blush spreading on both their faces before she lifted the phone back to her ear. 

“Martina?” 

“I’m still here.”

“I’ll be right over as soon as I can,” Dahlia promised. 

\--------------

When Dahlia arrived she was greeted by a furious Martina at the door and a teary eyed Richie as she entered the kitchen.

“Richard, why don’t you tell Ms. Parker what happened?” Martina asked none too gently which only made Richie cry more. 

“I….I made f-fun of his birthmark,” he managed to say around his tears and snot. 

“And?” His mother prompted. 

“And I c-called it stupid,” he wailed. “I’m sorry!”

“And he’ll be more than willing to apologize to Mason, won’t you Richie?” The boy nodded frantically. “Uh-huh.”

Dahlia swallowed past the lump in her own throat. “Thank you for being honest, Richie,” she murmured. Her next sentence was directed toward her friend. “Where is he?” 

Martina led her down the hallway and gestured to a door to their left before squeezing Dahlia’s arm and leaving to talk to her son once more in order to make sure this never happened again. 

Dahlia gently knocked on the door. “Mason, baby, it’s momma. Can you unlock the door, please?” A moment passed before she heard a click and the door swung open, revealing puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. “Oh, baby.” She murmured stepping into the bathroom, kneeling down, and opening her arms. “Come here.” Mason rushed into her embrace without a second thought, sobbing once more. 

Dahlia closed the door, giving them a little bit more privacy. She stroked her son’s hair as he continued to cry. After a few moments she asked, “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

“We-we were playing,” Mason hiccupped as she rubbed his back soothingly. “And I pushed back my hair an’ Richie made fun of my birthmark ‘cause I can’t get rid of it and-and he says it’s stupid looking. I don’t wanna have something stupid on me mamma!” 

Dahlia’s heart twisted painfully at the hurt Mason was feeling. If she could take his pain and make it her own, she would do so in a heartbeat. 

Dahlia squeezed her son softly before pulling back so she could look him in the eyes. “Mason James, I want you to listen to me, okay? Your birthmark is  _ not _ stupid. Sometimes people,” she let out a sigh. “Say things that they don’t mean.”

“But why?” 

“Because people get angry at things that are different. They get angry because they’re jealous. Your birthmark makes you different,” Dahlia says as she smooths back Mason’s hair. “It makes you special, my sweet boy. More special than anyone else in the whole world.” 

Mason gazed at her in awe, as if she had hung every star in the sky. He was such a smart and sweet boy for his age, Dahlia thought. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about your birthmark because I think it’s perfect just the way it is.” Dahlia said leaning forward to place a kiss on the God gifted constellation markings. Mason smiled toothily as she brushed her thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away stray tears. She pressed a kiss this time to the center of his forehead and Mason giggled. Dahlia smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose, his chin, and his cheeks just so she could hear his beautiful laugh again. 

“I love you, momma,” Mason whispered as he wrapped his small arms around her neck. 

Dahlia felt her heart constrict with love for the angelic child holding on to her as she returned the hug. She really was so lucky to be this boy’s mother. “I love you too, baby. More than you will ever know,” She said, blinking back her own tears. She cleared her throat. “What do you say to some ice cream on the way home, hm?” 

Mason’s eyes lit up and he almost quite literally started vibrating with excitement. Dahlia hummed in amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Mother and son exited the bathroom, Mason holding tightly to his mother’s hand. Martina stood up from her seat when she saw them, ushering her son to do the same, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Richie has something he would like to tell you, Mason.”

Richie looked down at the ground in shame. “‘M sorry for making fun of your birthmark. It’s not stupid, it’s actually kind of cool.” 

Dahlia gently squeezed her son’s hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I forgive you.” The young boys carefully traded small smiles. 

“I’m so sorry this happened, Dahl. And I’m sorry that I had to tear you away from work.” Martina said softly. 

“It’s okay, Tina. I’m glad that you called. And don’t worry about my work. Francine is really understanding. She’s amazing, actually.” Dahlia blushed. 

Martina raised an eyebrow. “Francine, huh? When did that happen? I thought she was Ms. Edwards?”

“Oh hush, you. Thank you again for watching him for the day. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s really no problem,” Martina responded as she showed mother and son to the door. “He’s a sweetheart and welcome anytime.”

With that, the pair departed waving goodbye, walking in the opposite direction as their house, making the necessary detour to the ice cream parlor. 

Mason was holding on to his mother’s hand but tugged a little when he looked up and noticed a man across the street from them. When Mason’s brown eyes met the stranger’s gold ones, all of his dreams came back to him all in a rush. It was the man from his dreams! Suddenly there was something really scratchy against his neck and he couldn’t breathe. Before Mason could even register the sensation it was gone and instead he was burning up and his head throbbed. Then the sensation passed and Mason felt the worst pain he had ever felt in his young life somewhere near his stomach. Then he was choking, but as suddenly as something became lodged in his throat it was gone and everything was exactly as it had been a mere 30 seconds ago.

Mason tugged on his mother’s hand once more. “Mamma, can we go talk to him?” he asked, pointing at the man across the street. 

“No, honey. He’s a stranger. We don’t know him and he doesn’t know us,” Dahlia said patiently, gently pulling her son along. 

“But he isn’t a stranger, I know him! I’ve seen him in my dreams!” Mason said tugging much harder than before. 

“Mason, what has gotten into you!” Daliah demanded. Using his mother’s shock to his advantage, Mason slipped free of her grasp, darting away. “Mason!” She shrieked. “Stop!” 

But it was too late. The red Ford pickup truck came barreling down the road much faster than the posted speed limit. The engine revved as the driver pressed harder on the gas, not even flinching at the thud beneath his tires. 

Mason James Parker died immediately on impact.

The truck fled from view. Later accounts of the hit and run would describe the driver with a scar running from his left eyebrow to the right corner of his lip. 

A heart broken wail cut across the evening as Dahlia rushed to her son’s side. “No, no, no, no, my baby please,” she pleaded, smoothing hair away from his face. “You’re alright, you’re alright. You’re gonna be just fine, I promise,” she cried pulling his lifeless body into her arms.

Dahlia looked up and noticed the man that her son had run out into the street for. The man managed to take a couple of wobbly steps toward her before collapsing to his knees a few feet away. “I’m so sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Dahlia cried harder, rocking her son. 

“This is your fault!” She screamed at the man who flinched back. “My son is dead because of you! Oh God, he’s dead. He’s…. _ dead. _ ” The woman whimpered, bowing her head to rest atop her son’s birthmark. 

The pair continued to weep in shared anguish as sirens sounded in the distance. 


	9. And in her song all magic flows

_1975, California._

Mason Presley was a well known and on the rise artist in California. People would travel from all across the globe to see his work. They’d offer him millions to commission just one piece of his art, from his still life paintings, to his landscapes, and even his portraits - he was a jack of all trades when it came to art.

Yet here he was - stuck in a rut. He let out a sigh and put down his paint brush. He stepped back from the canvas and let out a groan as he plopped down on the couch. He stared at the canvas sketch and let the image run through his head. Another sigh left him as he reached over to his coffee table and picked up a dusty old leather journal.

After hearing a lecture from his professor on the last hit of the bubonic plague in France, he became much more interested about the topic. After a lot of digging and research he found a diary kept by one of the patients. 

_Mason Parish._

All his entries in the hospital described a doctor, a taller blonde gentleman that he’d made a deep connection with, despite only knowing him for a little while. The boy - fifteen according to the entries - described how the disease progressed and eventually took his sight. He wrote about how he hoped that the Doctor would one day find someone that could make him happy again, as the doctor was a widower. 

The boy recalled stories that the doctor had told him, things from America. About the Salem witch trials and how he’d lost his husband because they believed him a witch. His name was Mason Cipher, married to the young boy’s doctor, William Cipher. 

He thought it was an odd, yet unique, coincidence that they all shared the same first name. Knowing their stories _and_ sharing a name made Mason Presley feel strangely connected to these men that lived long before his time. 

Mason let out a sigh and looked up from the diary to the canvas. The outline sketch of a bleak church hospital sat there, a genre painting he’d been working on of the young boy and his doctor. He placed the diary on his nightstand and after a few more minutes of debate, finally decided a glass of something strong would help him.

He made his way over to the entryway of his apartment, slid on a pair of his black platform heels and fixed his hair making sure his birthmark was on display. The mark was the centerpiece of all his outfits and many of his fans even painted the same mark on their own foreheads. Which he found amusing to say the least.

He stepped out into the chill of the evening and locked the door behind him. He sashayed his way down the block and made his way to Murio’s Trophy Room. After all, he had free drinks for life. The owner, John, had asked him to paint a genre painting of him on the court to hang on the wall in exchange for free drinks. Of course he couldn’t say no, who could possibly say no to free booze?

Mason took a seat at the bar and waited for John who rounded the corner. He gave Mason a smile and began whipping up the same drink that he’d always ordered: A Tequila Sunrise. He watched John mix the orange juice and tequila before pouring it over ice and adding a cherry and orange garnish. He slid the drink over to Mason. 

He waltzed over to Mason’s end of the bar and leaned back on the counter beside the brunette. Mason looked to him while taking a sip of his drink.

“See that man?” John asked as he gestured to a corner booth near the front. Mason leaned over the counter and caught sight of a blonde haired man, mid-twenties just like himself. Tall, golden, handsome, and absolutely his type. He turned to John and nodded.

“He’s been in here almost every night since you last came in, always ordering Flip. He’s the first customer I’ve had in almost forty years to order that.” He remarked as he began wiping down a glass. Mason took a sip of his drink before replying.

“What the hell is Flip?” He questioned as he looked to the bartender. The man let out a chuckle and turned to him.

“Oh it’s this ridiculously old drink from the 1690’s, a creamy beer type concoction. I could make you a glass if ya want to try it.” John replied as he set the glass cup down beneath the counter. Mason shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

“Out of curiosity, what does it taste like?” 

“It's sort of like drinking liquified earth, but it has its charms.” John remarked with a chuckle. Mason made a face of disgust and turned back to his drink.

“Thanks, but no thanks mate, I am very happy with this.” He retorted before turning back to the mysterious blonde. After a few minutes of contemplation, Mason decided to bite the bullet. He stood up and made his way over to the blonde’s booth and leaned on the table, startling the man. 

As Mason looked down into the man’s golden eyes, he saw the flashes of many lifetimes. This man - William, always there. Once upon a time, his husband. 

“Are you okay?” He asked concerned as he grabbed Mason’s arm to help steady him. Mason let out a chuckle and chalked it up to the booze before smirking at the blonde.

“Perfectly fine. Now, I don’t normally do this but when a-” He looked William up and down, biting his lip, tugging at the skin. “Beautiful stranger grabs my attention, I have to get to know them better.” He finished as he leaned close to William’s ear.

“And you, darling, are a beautiful stranger.” He whispered before standing up from his leaning position on the table. Mason placed a five down on the table for the drink and made his way to the door sashaying as he went. 

He turned and looked to William who was half leaning out of his seat watching him with a hunger filled expression. Mason raised his hand giving him a beckoning gesture. He watched William get up and grab his jacket. A chuckle left Mason’s lips as he stepped out into the chilly November air. 

A hand gripped his chin forcing him to look up and his gaze met the lustful look residing in William’s eyes. The blonde connected their lips in a fervor. He grabbed the brunette’s waist tightly, bringing them even closer together. Mason pulled away gasping and grabbed William’s arm and pulled him down the block to his apartment. A light giggle left his lips as he pulled his new found guest faster down the block; he hadn’t gotten laid in a while.

He couldn’t wait for the ensuing evening. 


	10. Can you brave what you most fear?

Mason knew he had found an amazing bed mate the mere second it was over as he laid on top of Will’s body with a hazy smile, reconnecting their lips. William smiled into the kiss as he traced the curves on the brunette’s body. He hadn’t been this close to Mason in two- almost three- centuries. To him this was heaven, but if the past had any effect on the present, he knew he’d have to disappear from Mason’s life in order to keep him from dying. 

But for tonight, and only tonight, he’d enjoy the warmth of his soul mate beside him and that was all that mattered, his happiness be damned. If Mason could live a long and happy life, the sacrifice he made would be worth it in the end. 

William looked around the vast studio apartment, at the many different canvas shapes, the millions of different paints everywhere, and the hundreds of pencils scattered about. He looked to the sculpting materials stacked in the corner of Mason’s tiny - overflowing - work table. 

“Judging by the sheer amount of art supplies, I assume you’re a painter.” He remarked looking down to the younger man tracing figures on his chest. His heart filled with warmth as he heard a small giggle come from his partner. 

“Yes I am- Oh I figured it out!” He nearly shouted as he jumped up from his comfortable position. He grabbed his selected paints and canvas before taking a seat beside William. The man looked over in curiosity as Mason sketched rapidly; he was drawing a face - William’s face to be exact.

Once satisfied he turned the canvas to William so he could see what he had drawn: a young boy lying in a rickety ancient looking metal bed - deathly pale and sick, beside him a doctor gently holding his hand. The doctor had an unspoken love in his eyes for the other, yet his gaze was heartbroken.

William recognized this scene very well. It was the day Mason’s second lifetime had ended. It looked just as painful on canvas, as it had when he’d actually died.

“That‘s beautifully done, what inspired you to paint this?” He asked as he studied the intricate details of the scene. He turned his attention to Mason who was looking off into the distance seemingly gone from the world.

“A few weeks back my history professor was telling us about the final string of the plague, I got very interested in the history of the time period and did a lot of research - eventually I found this.” He said as he grabbed the diary from his nightstand. He passed the book over to the blonde who began skimming the pages. Mason watched in shock as tears began to stream down his face.

“Bill, are you alright?” He asked softly. He gently placed his hand on the taller man’s bicep. Bill looked over to the concerned Mason and placed a gentle kiss on the constellation marks on his forehead.

“Yes, just a little emotional that’s all.” He leaned in connecting their lips. The warmth and fullness brought much of the joy back to his heart that he’d missed. They pair traded lazy kisses until Mason fell asleep, wrapped up in Bill’s arms. 

When the dawn light broke the horizon, Bill gently broke free of Mason’s grasp. He searched around and eventually found a pen and piece of scratch paper. He scribbled down a message and left it on his pillow. Quickly he got dressed and made his way to the door. Almost as an afterthought, Bill grabbed the diary of Mason Parish and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. 

Bill stood in the doorway and watched over Mason’s sleeping figure. A soft and painful smile sat on his lips as a sole tear trailed down his cheek. He wiped it away and left, walking out of Mason’s life.

\------

The birds sang loudly when Mason finally awoke. He looked to the clock on his night stand and saw it was well past noon. He looked over to the other half of the bed expecting to find Bill. Instead, there was a letter.

  
  


_ My dearest Mason,  _

_ You never cease to surprise me Mason Cipher. Every lifetime you manage to find me yet each time it’s in vain. Every single time we’ve found each other you slip away like water through a cracked glass, each time leaving my life more painful than the last.  _

_ I want you to have a good life, even if it’s without me. My happiness does not matter, all that matters to me is you. That’s why my dear, I have to leave your life before you die once more. I want you to live a long and happy life. Although I’m leaving, I want you to know you mean so much to me. I value you more than I do my own life. Please for me, be happy, get married, start a family, and move on. I’m a mere shadow of the past; just be happy and live for me, my dearest Mason. Just know that I love you dearly and always will.  _

_ All of my love, your husband, _

_ William Cipher _

When he made it to the end, tears streamed down his cheeks, gently falling onto the paper. He was gone….Mason had lost him,  _ again _ . He’d been alive countless times, yet he’d never been able to be close to Bill for longer than a few days! It just wasn’t fair!

\---------

Two months passed by as the days seemed to grow longer and darker as winter settled into the city. Mason had successfully finished his painting calling it “The heartbreak of Marseille” and it was the centerpiece for his gallery in downtown San Francisco.

Something odd happened after Bill abruptly walked out of his life. Art used to be his outlet but now, every time he tries to put a pencil to paper his mind goes everywhere. His brain continuously ran in circles as millions of memories flooded his mind. The pencil left his fingertips and fell to the floor as he grabbed his head, holding it in pain.

The memories just would not stop haunting him, so he turned to therapy. 

Things only spiraled from there. 


	11. Can you face what the river knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone one this is one of the very few times I'll be dropping in.
> 
> a.) I am in no way bashing therapy or seeing a therapist (Von Karma is a dick)
> 
> b.) This is a trigger warning: There is suicide in this chapter
> 
> c.) If you are ever in a situation where you think suicide is the answer please call the hotline and get the help you need. 1-800-273-8255
> 
> Love you my wonderful readers enjoy the chapter

Sitting down in his new psychiatrist's office is something he never thought he’d do, especially as a young man who’d been around for multiple lifetimes, apparently. He sat in the cushiony chair and watched the door as he waited for the man who’d be helping him. The latch clicked and turned as the door swung open, a taller redhead stepped in with an odd scar running down his face.

“Hello Mr. Presley, my name is Doctor Brendon Von Karma. I’ll be your psychiatrist from now on.” The redhead said as he extended his hand. Mason met his hand in the middle, giving him a handshake.

“This is kinda outta the blue doc, but have we met before?” He asked as Von Karma motioned for him to sit down.

“No, I don’t believe so Mr. Presley. You’d remember a face like mine.” He joked. 

\---------

Another few months breezed past, blurring into April and things were just spiraling worse and worse. Nothing made sense anymore. He rarely left his home and he couldn’t go outside without envisioning a five year old boy getting slammed by a truck. Mason couldn’t bring himself to even look at a martini, let alone indulge in one.

He let out a shaky sigh as he grabbed at his neck. In the mirror he saw the hangman’s noose wrapped tightly around his neck. He pulled and scratched at his neck until there were angry red marks, bruising, and a little bit of blood. He reached over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a pill bottle. He forced two down his throat and let a sigh escape his lips.

_“I believe Mr. Presley you are suffering from early stage schizophrenia. You exhibit the classic signs of delusion, hallucinations and illusions, disordered thinking, and a lack of interest in activities.” Von Karma rattled off as Mason looked at him like he was stupid, growing increaingly confused. He didn’t suffer from any of those symptoms._

_“Just because I believe in the possibility of reincarnation doesn’t mean I’m schizophrenic.” He retorted as he crossed his arms across his chest. Von Karma chuckled and pulled out a prescription pad. He scribbled down a few words and ripped the page out, handing it to Mason._

_“Take that to the pharmacy and get the medicine, it’ll help I promise. Take two tablets everyday and you should start to feel better.”_

Mason did as he was told; he'd do anything to make the memories stop. Of course Von Karma said the medication would help him feel better, but if anything, it just seemed to make everything worse. Yet here he was, behaving and listening to the doctor and taking his medication every single day. He felt lethargic, not having the motivation to even look at a canvas, let alone put something on it.

He was staring off at nothing when a sudden burst of energy rippled through his body as a strange thought came to mind: _what if I mapped out the lives?_

A grin spread on his face as he went and did just that. Several hours later, after lots of thumb tacks and red thread, he managed to trace the Mason’s all the way from Mason Patterson up to himself. 

Each and every one of his lives, in order. As he did so, he noticed through all his research that one consistent person popped up with the same name and same beautiful golden eyes.

A man named William Cipher, Bill, as he knew him now. The husband of his first life as Mason Patterson. He made an appearance in every life. But how? Mason sat, thinking, before coming to a conclusion.

Bill must be immortal. 

\-----------

_“An immortal man? That is the most delusional thing I’ve heard from you yet Mr. Presley.” Von Karma said as he laughed out loud. “Please forgive my laughter, but that is just preposterous.”_

_“Crazy, you mean it’s crazy.” Mason muttered softly as Von Karma wiped his glasses lens. He looked pointedly to Mason and nodded. Mason sat in thought before he remembered something._

_“I’ve got proof!” He said quickly as he stood up. Von Karma laughed as Mason made his way to the door._

_“Sure you do, Mr. Presley.”_

_\---------_

Mason searched high and low for the diary of Mason Parish but couldn’t seem to find it. He sat on the edge of his couch staring at the bulletin board covered with notes and thread connecting each life to the other, and each instance to Bill. 

A sigh escaped his lips. Maybe he really was crazy. Maybe the diary never existed at all. He leaned off the side of the couch and turned on the radio. He stood up and made his way over to the scotch cabinet and pulled out the bottle. 

_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality._

“I’ve never heard this song before.” He mumbled out as he slumped back into the couch taking a swig of his scotch. 

As he sat there his mind wandered farther and farther, climbing deeper into despair. All the light had left his life in the span of five months and everything he had loved had been striped from him. His mother had died a year prior, he could no longer paint his feelings out, he couldn’t leave the house without seeing the deaths of his past selves, and even…. 

Even his beloved William, had left him too. 

_I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all_

He had nothing left, _no_ _one_ left. No safety net to fall into, no hope left. He was… Broken. A crazy, schizophrenic, raving lunatic with delusions. Nothing could save him from himself anymore. Not therapy and certainly not any medication.

Mason chugged down the rest of his drink before setting the glass tumbler onto the end table. He stood up, swaying a bit and looked out the window in his bedroom. His body began moving on its own as his brain ran into overdrive. He just couldn’t seem to shut up his brain. He just wanted everything to stop. He wanted everything to be quiet. 

He opened the window and began climbing up the fire escape, higher and higher until he reached the roof. Mason hoisted himself onto the concrete railing and looked down at the six story drop as the wind gently blew through his hair. 

He just had to take one step forward and he’d be free.

Free from the pain, the memories, the heartache, and all he had to do was take a step. The night air sent a chill up his spine and he shivered from the cold. 

He shut his eyes and began to lean forward. 

“MASON!” A voice shouted beneath him in horror. He opened his eyes and looked down to see a blonde man standing on the sidewalk. 

_William… He’s not real either. Just another hallucination._

“You’re not real. You aren’t here. You’re just a figment of my fucked up brain’s imagination.” He cried out as tears fell down his cheeks. He hugged himself tightly as tears poured out harder. 

“I’m right here, I’m real! I promise! Please Mason, get off the ledge. I’m coming up!” Bill shouted as he made his way to the door. He pulled it open and made a beeline for the stairs. 

“This is it. I’ve finally gone insane. I- I just can’t do this anymore.” Mason mumbled. 

He heard the roof door open as he stepped forward, nothing underneath him anymore. He felt air flowing around him as a horrified scream rang out. 

The song from earlier whispered through Mason’s mind. 

_Carry on, carry on._

Then he felt nothing. 

_As nothing really matters._


	12. Until the river's finally crossed

_ 1997- Detroit, Michigan _

Mason Prince was born in the beginning of the 80’s, one of the greatest periods of rock ‘n’ roll and awful hairstyles. His mother, Joan, had him out of wedlock after sleeping with a rock star after a concert. Which one - he never knew. 

He was an only child growing up in the suburbs of southern Detroit, Michigan. His mother was a very doting and loving mom and worked her ass off as a doctor. 

Joan’s sister, Amy, had passed away in a car crash a few years prior, leaving them everything she had, including a little flower shop on mainstreet. Mason was sixteen when she died. They had been very close, ever since he was young, and often spent hours together planting seeds, pulling weeds, and just enjoying each other's company.

After her death, Mason begged his mother to run the shop and Joan eventually relented on the compromise that Mason’s grandfather legally ran it until Mason was eighteen and could take over. He agreed and has worked as hard as he could, working daily at the flower shop after school, always having his assignments done and doing everything he could to make his mom’s life easier.

He’d been a cheeky handful growing up according to his mother and grandfather, so he figured he had to pay them back somehow. What better way than to run the business his aunt had built from the ground up. Plus, with the additional income it brought in, it definitely seemed to be the most convenient and fun way. 

_ The air was crisp as autumn graced the small town. The smell of apple pie in the air as he made his way down the busy street. Merchants on either side were trying to sell their goods. The many sights and sounds filled him with wonder as he explored the market square.  _

_ Children danced to the fiddlers off to the side as people worked on a large stone wall painting many different images. Mason felt a tugging on his cape and he looked down to see a small girl smiling at him. She beckoned him down so he kneeled down to her level. The little girl with a large smile on her face gave him a rose and he accepted it with a smile. _

_ “My daddies say you were the one who saved me from the hanging tree. Thank you Mr. Patterson.” She said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He chuckled as he hugged her back.  _

_ She was the first little girl he’d saved, little miss Primrose. He was humbled to know that she still remembered him. _

__

_ “Prim!” A voice called out. Mason scooped her up into his arms and stood up. He waved to his old friend who came rushing over. _

_ “Hello, Anthony.” He said with a smile as he passed Prim over to her father who smiled at the brunette. _

_ “Mason! I’m so glad you came. Is William with you?” He asked. Mason gave him a nod. _

_ “He’s around here somewhere, you know how he is. He gets sidetracked and disappears.” Mason said with a smile. Anthony let out a chuckle. _

_ “Well we’d love to have you both over for dinner tonight.” He told Mason as he began to sway to the music of the fiddlers. Mason’s eyes lit up as he nodded. _

_ “That sounds lovely, I’ll find William.” He said quickly.  _

_ “My home is just up the road that way, the fifth house on the right with the imperial flag hanging off the porch.” Anthony explained pointing to one of the off roads from the market. Mason gave him a nod and set off. Anthony chuckled as Mason rushed to find his boyfriend.  _

_ He made his way into the busy street and looked around. He was ridiculously tall with blonde hair. Surely he’d be easy to spot. Mason made his way down the road to the main entrance and finally spotted him. _

_ “William.” He called out as he made his way over. The blonde looked up and quickly hid whatever he’d purchased behind his back. Mason let out a chuckle and kissed William on the cheek, gently grabbing his free arm. _

_ “I ran into Anthony, Primrose’s father. He’s invited us for dinner.” He said with a smile as he began guiding the pair through the crowd. William let out a laugh as he smiled. He looked down to Mason with love in his eyes. _

_ “Ah, how old is she now anyway, six- seven? William asked. Mason looked up in thought for a moment. _

_ “I believe she’s six.” He replied as he leaned into his boyfriend’s shoulder. William sighed contentedly, placing a kiss on the top of his lover's head. _

__

_ “Well I’ll be- that means we’ve been courting for two years now.” William said in surprise as he turned his head to look down at Mason. The brunette’s eyes meet his with a gentle blush gracing his cheeks. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that actually.” He added as they made their way out of the marketplace. He guided Mason onto the road Anthony lived on and stopped him. _

_ Mason looked at him in confusion as William reached into his jacket, the sounds of the festival barely noticed by them as he opened the box to reveal a small gold band. _

_ “William!” Mason exclaimed in surprise as tears welled in his eyes. William smiled as he presented the box to his lover. _

_ “Mason, we’ve been courting for a little over two years now and I want to be there. For everything better or worse. I love you so much Mason, you mean the world to me. Would you Marry me?” The blonde asked, a soft smile on his lips. Mason reached up pulling William down into a kiss. _

_ “Yes, absolutely yes.” He said through tears of joy as William slid the band on his ring finger. Mason looked at it with glee before wrapping his arms around his now fiancé in an embrace. William’s arms circled around his waist as he rested his head on top of Mason’s with a thankful smile on his lips. _

  
  


“-ason.”

“Mason, wake up! Mr. Dean is coming over!” 


	13. You'll never feel solid ground

“Mason, wake up! Mr. Dean is coming over!” A panicked voice called out. Mason lifted his head from his desk to see Mira - his table mate - shaking his shoulder rapidly. He looked up to see low and behold, Mr. Dean standing there with a pissed off expression on his face.

“Mr. Prince, care to answer the question on the board?” He asked with a smug look on his face. Mason shrugged and stood up. He walked over to the board with a smirk. Senior English was a cake walk. He picked up a marker as he reread the question. 

What did Shakespeare's use of " _ ecstasy _ " mean?

Underneath the question he wrote:

Shakespeare used  _ ecstasy _ to mean  _ insanity, madness _ . Now it’s used as an expression of intense feeling, joy, or grief.

He turned to Mr. Dean with a smirk on his face as he capped the marker and walked back over to his seat. Mr. Dean let out a sigh and looked at his smartest student. 

“Get better sleep at night, son. I don’t want you sleeping in my class anymore.” He said sternly. Mason turned and gave him a salute as he sat down. Mr. Dean turned back to the board and continued his Hamlet lecture as Mason tuned him out, his gaze trained out the window in thought.

What an odd dream.

He’d had ones similar from many different eras from the 1800’s to the 1970’s, but never what looked like the 1600’s. A sigh escaped his lips as he waited for the bell to ring. He got out of class at three o’clock and had to open the shop at three forty-five, which gave him enough time to run home, grab a bite to eat, get changed and make his way to work. 

The bell finally rang and he began packing his things up quickly. As he reached for his phone a hand grabbed his tightly. He looked up to see the owner of that hand - Mira.

“Hey um.. Mason can I talk to you for a second?” She asked quietly. He pulled his hand away and nodded. “Um- well this is really embarrassing and all- ummm… Would you like to go out with me sometime?” She added with bright red hue on her cheeks. Mason let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, he really wasn’t interested but he didn’t want to seem like a douche.

“Sorry Mira, I don’t really swing that way. Plus, I’ve got a boyfriend. But um, if you wanna hang out as friends that would be cool?” He told her quickly and awkwardly. 

She smiled. “I’d like that. Here, let me see your cell.”

Mason handed it over and she flipped it open and typed in her number. “Thanks,” Mason said. “Sorry I’ve gotta bounce, Mira, but I have to get home and then to work pretty quick.”

“That’s alright. See you around, Mason.” He waved goodbye to her, walking backwards. Once he got far enough he turned back around and made his way outside rapidly and got in his jeep. He turned over the engine and floored it out of the parking lot.

He sped home quickly and rushed into the house. Mason booked it up the stairs and turned into his room. He grabbed his simple grey pull over and a pair of jeans quickly changing. On his way out of his room he grabbed his work apron and slid it on. He quickly made his way downstairs, grabbing the lunch bag from the fridge that his mother had made for him before she left for work.

He sprinted down the pathway back to his jeep. Mason peeled out of the driveway and down the road. He barely managed to pull it off but by sheer luck he pulled into the parking lot at three forty-four. Mason grabbed his lunch bag and backpack as he turned off the jeep and made his way to the side door.

He unlocked it flipping the lights on as he stepped inside. He dropped his bags behind the counter and bent down to the safe. He pulled out some cash and put it in the register taking note of the amounts before shutting it. Mason made his way to the front where he unlocked the door and flipped the sign to open.

He made his way back over to the counter and sat down. Mondays usually were pretty uneventful which gave him time to think. 

His mind made its way back to the odd dream he had during English class. It was the same man once again: William. He had appeared throughout every single dream of his but of course his appearance always changed. Mainly his outfits and hairstyles, as he’d appeared as the same person, just in many different time periods. 

He was shaken out of his musings by his ringtone. Seeing that it was his mother, Mason answered like so: “‘Ello, this is the voice recording of Mason Prince. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to---”

He was cut off by his mother. “Ha-ha. Very funny young man. I’m just calling to check in and make sure you got the shop open without any issues.”

Mason sighed loudly and dramatically for his mother. “Mom, I open the shop everyday after school and every day you call to say the same thing. I’m fine, the shop is fine, and I haven’t accidentally set fire to anything, I promise.” 

“Oh, I know, I know. But I’m your mother, let me fuss, okay? How was school?” Joan asked. 

“School was school. Boring. I can’t wait to graduate already.”

Mason’s mother let out a groan. “Don’t remind me. You’ve grown up so quickly baby. Time really does fly. These next three months will go by in the blink of an eye.”

Now it was Mason’s turn to groan. “Mom, don’t get all mushy on me. Anyway, how was work?”

“Work was work. Boring.” She teased, copying his words. Just then Mason heard “Doctor Joan Prince to room 314 - Code blue!” come through on his phone. 

“I gotta go, baby. See you later tonight, love you!”

“Love you too, mom. Bye.” He said as he closed his phone. 

Mason sighed as he looked around the shop. The very large indoor plants needed to be rotated out so they each got equal amounts of sunlight. He sighed again and got to work. 

It wasn't very long after he started on his task that he heard the bell above the door ring. “I’ll be right with you,” Mason told the customer. 

“Need some help with that?” He heard a deep and smooth voice ask. Suddenly, the plant he had been picking up became immensely easier to lift and they got it situated rather quickly. 

“Thanks for that,” Mason said kindly as he stepped around the large fronds to meet the person who had helped him. 

And just as it had happened several times before, brown eyes met gold once more.


	14. You have to get a little lost

“William motherfucking Cipher! You goddamn asshole!” He shouted as he backed the blonde up to the door. Bill held his hands up in front of him in a horrible attempt at surrender. Mason was pissed and God was Bill going to know it.

“Let’s talk about 1976, shall we?” He asked aggressively as he shoved a finger at Bill’s chest. “We have a go and you ditch me before I wake up! That’s low and you know it. We’re married, you goddamn moron!” He ranted as he just got more and more worked up. He had killed himself because of this man. Chucked his body off a goddamn building over him.

“I had to go to therapy after you left! I was broken and doped up on some medication which I didn’t even need! Everyone thought I was crazy when I regained all my memories! They thought I was schizophrenic! I hallucinated my own previous deaths, I- I just couldn’t do it anymore Bill.” His shouts became weaker as tears fell down his cheeks. “I killed myself because I lost everything after seeing you in my last life. My mother died, I lost my joy in painting,  _ I lost EVERYTHING _ !” He cried out as his legs gave out as he collapsed to the ground. 

“And I lost you too.” Mason wailed into his hands. He felt arms wrap around him as Bill pulled him close. Mason sobbed into his husband’s chest, gripping his shirt tightly in his hands. “You just abandoned me, and it broke me.” He said softly through a few sniffles.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry my love. I shouldn’t have. The guilt eats me alive every single day. But each time I’ve found you, you die tragically soon after. I just couldn’t keep killing you.” Bill replied quietly as he stroked Mason’s hair.

“You can’t keep leaving me anymore either. I’m not letting you escape me. Not this time.” Mason retorted as he shoved Bill to the ground. The blonde looked up to him in confusion as the brunette straddled his waist. “You’re going nowhere, not until I get your cell number, a kiss, and the promise of a dinner date soon.” He added as he crossed his arms with a huff. Bill looked at him confused for a few moments before he burst out laughing. A smile grew on Mason’s face as the laughter soon infected him too. 

“Fine, fine, darling you win. Give me your phone.” Bill said as he held his hand out. Mason pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Bill who flipped it open and punched in a series of numbers before handing it back. “I have a shift tonight in the Emergency Room, so we can go to dinner tomorrow night, how does that sound?” He asked. Mason smiled and stood up. He held out his hand to Bill who accepted it as Mason pulled him from the floor. 

“That sounds delightful. Now I do believe I am owed a kiss.” Mason said as he tapped his lips. Bill smirked as he wrapped his arms around Mason’s waist.

“Oh you cheeky little thing.” He said with a grin as he connected their lips. An annoyed groan left his lips as he felt his pager go off. He sighed and pulled it out reading the message. “I’ve got to go darling, they need me early. I’ll swing by on my lunch break before you close.” Bill added as he gently squeezed Mason’s hand. He left a kiss on Mason’s birthmark - waving as he left. 

\------------

The rest of his shift ticked by slowly as he waited in anticipation. He’d gotten a text from Bill saying he’d be around at nine and they could go for coffee while he was on break.

It was eight thirty at the moment and he’d begun cleaning up. Sweeping, getting the money counted and placed back into the safe, and closing down the shop for the night.

As he rushed around in the backroom, he was startled when he heard a loud crash from up front. Mason ran from the backroom to see the entire store front on fire, an exploded molotov cocktail lying shattered on the floor. He looked to the window seeing a flash of red hair before the fire grew larger. He ran for the side door and went to turn the knob but the door wouldn’t budge.

_ Oh this is just bullshit, you gotta be kidding me. After I just found Bill  _ again _. Come on! _

He kicked at the door and tried to get it to budge but it just wouldn’t. It was as if someone had barricaded the door. Mason began feeling light headed and hot as the smoke grew thicker and thicker. He dropped to the floor trying his damndest to stay alive at this point.

He heard sirens in the distance quickly approaching.

The last thing he could remember was being carried out by a firefighter.

\----------

“University of Michigan Hospital, this is Ambulance 81. We are currently en route to your facility with an 18 year old male who was trapped in a shop fire. Patient is semi-unconscious, knows what happened but is overall confused.” Bill peaked up and moved over to the nurses station. “Obvious signs of smoke inhalation. Burns cover 22.5% of his body - his chest, left arm fully, and half of his right arm - as noted on the physical exam. ETA five minutes.” The report was brief. Bill sighed and decided he wasn’t taking his break. He texted Mason an apology. 

He was waiting by the door with his fellow Doctor Prince and a few nurses when the ambulance pulled in with lights and sirens. The staff walked out and he felt his heart fall from his chest as he saw them pull out the gurney with Mason attached. 

He heard Joan let out a horrified gasp. Bill motioned for the nurses to get the other physician and calm her down. He rushed over and scanned Mason quickly confirming the number from the medics.

3rd degree burns were a nightmare, but on the chest it was highly lethal. 

Bill began barking out orders as soon as they made it inside, nurses rushing around pushing fluids and medications as they moved him from gurney to bed.

Hours flew by as Mason was wrapped up, medicated, and everyone prayed. He just had to make it through the first night. Bill sat by his side gently holding his hand with his left - his right clutching the pair of rings dangling on a chain around his neck.

“Bill?” The blonde looked over to see Mason’s tired and confused gaze. A gentle smile formed on his face, which fell when he saw the look in his eyes. It was distant and gone and in that moment he knew. These we’re Mason’s last moments, he was reliving Mason’s second life all over again.

“Why did this have to happen again? I told you I should have stayed away.” Bill said softly as tears fell down his cheeks. Mason weakly squeezed his hand, a small smile on his lips. 

  
  


“It’s okay, my love. No matter how many times fate keeps us apart, I will always find you. I love you Bill. No matter how many times it takes, we will be together again, I promise.” He paused, putting on a brave smile. “Get my mom?”

Bill nodded. 

He watched Joan cry, Mason’s hand grasped in her own as they said their own final goodbye. Mason’s eyes flicked to Bill over his mother’s bowed head before his hand went limp.

The monitor screamed out, flatlining.

And once again, Mason was gone. 


	15. On your way to being found

_ 2025- Gravity Falls _

Mason Pines was born in Gravity Falls, Oregon on August 31st, 1999. The younger twin to his sister Mabel by a mere five minutes, born to Joshua and Maria Pines. 

Mason, or Dipper, as everyone called him thanks to his sister, was 25 years old when everything went odd. Yet calling it odd wouldn’t be the right term either, more like everything hit the fan and it got better afterwards.

It was August 30th when everything went wrong. 

He began his day like normal, sleeping in until nine and following his morning routine. Dipper stepped onto the porch soaking in the warm summer sunshine as he grabbed the newspaper. He made his way inside and whipped up some pancakes and a mug of coffee before sitting down at the rickety old table.

He let out a sigh as he opened the paper while taking a sip from his mug and began reading. Most parts of the paper were boring and nothing held his interest so he put it down on the table so Mabel could read it when she came down. 

With his food finished and coffee long gone, he stood up and walked over to the dishwasher placing his dishes inside. Footsteps bounded over head and down the stairs before he was body slammed into. He looked over to his sister’s overly chipper and grinning expression.

“Good morning Dippin’ Dots!” She chirped before taking a seat at the table. A sigh left his lips at the pet name before he gave her a smile.

“Good morning to you too, Mabel.” He replied as he pulled a chair out and sat back down while she began inhaling her breakfast like usual.

“Stan called and left a message. You’ve got three full tours today, one at noon, one and two, and one at four. And we’ve got to open up the shop in,” He paused looking down at his watch. “Twenty minutes meaning we’ve gotta go now.” He watched as Mabel nearly choked on the food in her mouth before she stood up, plate in hand. She made her way over to the door and Dipper watched her with a raised brow before she gestured for them to leave, all while still eating her breakfast as she walked out the door. 

A chuckle left his lips as he stood up and grabbed his keys from the hook. He followed her out to the car and turned over the engine. They pulled out and made it onto the main road before turning off onto a side dirt road. After a few minutes of the winding dirt road they made it to their second home. 

The Mystery Shack.

Stan had retired when the twins had turned twenty, leaving it to them to run the business in his stead. Of course he still lived there, but he spent his days working on projects with Ford in the basement. 

The twins piled out of the car and made their way to the front entrance. Dipper unlocked the door for Mabel who made her way over to the back curtain, mainly to go change and check in with Ford and Stan. Dipper made his way over to the counter reaching for the safe beneath and pulled out the register drawer, placing it inside the machine.

After he finished his counter duties he grabbed a rag from the backroom and began wiping down the counter and other oddities they had on display, which in and of itself was a daunting task. 

Eventually the shop was full of tourists - many snapping pictures, waiting in line for the tour, or purchasing merchandise with Dipper. He listened as his sister did her epic talk up of the tour. While they show actual oddities and not Stan’s fakes - it was still amusing to watch the crowd’s reactions. 

Hours ticked by with minimal happenings, it was just an ordinary Sunday for the Mystery Shack and a normal weekend in August. 

As Dipper waited for Mabel to finish her tour he began closing down the shop, that way the tourists could be shoved back onto the bus and the pair could go home for the night.

When she finally got back and the shop was officially closed, they shouted goodbye to their grunkles who did likewise before they got back into Dipper’s car and made their way back home. It was the same old routine. Yet something felt different, like something major was about to happen.

Once he pulled into their driveway he waited until Mabel was out before shifting into reverse. He rolled down his window as she looked at him confused.

“I’m heading to the woods for a minute, I’ve got to check and see if there are any more immortal flowers blooming. We’re nearly out of stock.” He told her smoothly. It wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the main reason he was going either.

“Okay bro-bro, just make sure you take your knife. Don’t need you hiking all the way out there and forgetting it!” She teased as his face lit up in an embarrassed hue.

“That was one time!” He whined out as she chuckled.

“And that’s all that’s needed.” She added as he began rolling up his window. He waved goodbye while he pulled back out of the driveway and back towards the Mystery Shack. Roughly a mile and a half into the woods was the only place he could find the flowers.

Dipper parked his car as close as he could and set off into the woods, knife and headlamp in hand. It was only 6 PM but it was always better to be safe rather than sorry in those woods. He began his hike thereafter, trying to make quick work of the trails before sunset. 

As he made his way to the end of his hour-long trek, the last thing he’d expected was to find another person out that far in the bloody woods. He watched the man delicately pull at the stem of the flower, struggling. The damn thing of course was not moving but that’s because you have to cut it. 

“You have to cut the buggers, otherwise they don’t budge.” He said as he walked over. He kneeled next to the stranger and cut the flower stem with ease. Dipper stood up and turned to offer the man the flower. A gasp escaped his lips as the man stood up beside him gently grasping his hand.

Bill.

Memories swirled through his head and he felt light headed. Suddenly, he was pulled into Bill’s embrace just as a gun shot rang out. 


	16. Where the north wind, meets the sea

Bill was sick and tired of watching Mason die over and over again, and over the three centuries he’d been alive he’d gained almost a superhuman instinct to danger and it had definitely paid off.

As the sound of a gunshot rang out he threw himself back, holding Mason firmly in his grasp. He looked up to the tree where Mason had been standing to see a decent sized hole that was smoking from the impact. 

That would’ve been fucking lethal. 

Bill scrambled up, quickly pulling Mason along down the trail. The brunette seemed to snap from his stupor and rushed them along faster.

“What the hell is going on Bill?” He asked as they rushed down the trail, the flowers long forgotten. Bill ran a hand through his hair aggressively, his grasp firm around Mason’s hand. 

“We have company, honey.” He replied as they broke the treeline into the clearing. Dipper basically dragged Bill over to his car and they got in rapidly. He turned the engine thankful it hadn’t been tampered with and quickly peeled out of the clearing taking notice of the bright red Ford that was parked a few feet from his car.

  
  


“Oh God bless it, Bill. That’s the same goddamn truck that hit me seventy-seven fucking years ago!” He shouted, drawing Bill’s attention to it. The blonde looked over and sure enough it was a 1949 Ford F1 pickup truck, still looking as new and shiny as it had when it killed Mason Parker.

Dipper drove quickly down the road making sure they weren’t being tailed as he took a few extra turns. Once he pulled into the driveway he parked in the garage and hit the button letting the door fall shut behind the car. A sigh of relief left his lips as soon as the door was fully shut. He leaned back in his seat in relief.

He looked over his gaze meeting Bill’s as he reached over the arm rests tugging the blonde into a kiss. Bill pushed the arm rests back pulling Dipper off his seat and into Bill’s lap, a low groan of excitement leaving his lips as Dipper wrapped his arms around his neck. 

“As much as I’d like to continue this my darling, we should go inside and figure out what the hell is going on.” Bill said softly as he pulled away. Dipper gave a small pout which caused Bill to chuckle. He placed a peck on the brunette's lips before opening the door, effortlessly sliding out of the car with Dipper still in his arms.

“What on earth are you doing? I can walk you know.” Dipper retorted as he wrapped his arms around Bill’s neck once more. A soft laugh left Bill’s lips as he leaned in, leaving a kiss on Dipper’s birthmark.

“I haven’t carried you across the threshold since we got married back in 1687, pardon me for wanting to do it again.” He teased causing Dipper to laugh. Bill made his way over to the door allowing Dipper to reach over and open it. They made their way into the kitchen and Bill begrudgingly set Dipper down, still keeping his arm around the brunette’s waist.

“Now that we’re in a safer place away from windows, please explain what the hell you’ve done?” Dipper asked as he gave the blonde a pointed look. Bill let out a sigh and gestured for Mason to take a seat at the table, which he did so.

“Remember back in 1690 when I started that group--”

“Cult.”

“That “cult” called The All Seeing Eyes, was a group heavily focused on black magic. In my research I found there was a spell surrounding the hanging tree. While it was told in the town lore that hanging someone on the tree would purify the souls of the damned, that isn’t exactly true. In my grief when you were hung, I offered the blood of three of the four council member’s who’d killed you in exchange for a wish. We became immortal. Well, I did. You are reborn every time you die, but once you turn twenty-six, you’ll become a full immortal just like I am.” He explained as best he could. Dipper looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Bill shook his head. “Let me get this straight: you’ve turned us both immortal but each life I’ve died before reaching twenty-six and now that I’m one day away from it, I’m being hunted down?” Dipper asked. He watched Bill think for a moment before he nodded.

“Oh Jesus. William Cipher, what did you get us into?” Dipper moaned in irritation as he leaned back into the wooden chair. He looked up as he heard laughter come from Bill.

“You almost made it back in 76’. You only had a few months left.” He remarked as he stared up at the ceiling. Bill looked back to Dipper as he heard him sigh.

“If I hadn’t seen that damn therapist, I wouldn’t have killed myself in that life.” Dipper said softly as his gaze met Bill’s. Dipper’s eyes dropped to the table in shame. “God, you should hate me. I’ve caused you nothing but misery for centuries Bill. How? How have you dealt with all this?” He cried out. Bill’s eyes went wide in shock as he reached over from his seat beside Dipper, pulling him into his embrace.

“Because I’ve had you. I’ve dealt with this because I knew you’d always come back to me. Every single time I knew I’d find you or you’d find me and each time, no matter how painful it was, I knew I’d see you soon, once again alive, living and breathing once more. That’s what kept me going.” He said softly as he pulled Dipper closer into his embrace.

“I love you Bill, so much.” Dipper whispered as he looked into Bill’s loving gaze. Bill leaned in placing a kiss on the mark that started it all.

“I love you too, Mason Cipher.” He replied with a smile.

“Dipper.”  
  


“Excuse me?” Bill asked in confusion. Dipper chuckled softly.

“It’s the nickname I got from my sister in this life. I’m quite fond of it.” He explained with a soft smile of pure joy on his face.

“Then my darling Dipper Cipher, I love you.” 


	17. There's a husband full of memory

“Who the hell are you?” A voice asked, startling both Dipper and Bill. Dipper looked up over Bill’s shoulder to see Mabel standing in the doorway. 

“I can explain.” Dipper said softly as he pushed away from Bill’s embrace.

Mabel cocked her brow. “Oh I’d like to hear this.” She said as she moved to take a seat. “Please explain how my brother, whose never taken interest in another person before, is suddenly cuddled up to a guy I’ve never seen before in my life.” She leaned back in her chair and waited. Dipper let out an irritated sigh.

Bill stood up extending his hand for Mabel to shake. “William Cipher. You can call me Bill. Pleasure to meet you.” She looked him up and down before reaching out and shaking his hand. She watched as he sat back down taking her brother’s hand in his own. A smile of joy, and what looked like love, very prominent on his face. 

Dipper turned to his sister giving her a pointed look. “Before I say anything, you have to promise me that you aren’t going to freak out.” He waited as she thought for a moment. Mabel sighed and nodded for him to go ahead. 

Dipper began with Bill’s help, explaining each and every lifetime to her. Each time they found each other only for it to end in tragedy. She gave him a pointed look as she mulled it over in her mind. Dipper wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t a liar. He wouldn’t just make something like this up. So she came to a decision: her brother was telling the truth and this was just fucking  _ wild _ . 

“Don’t you think it’s odd,” She began as her thoughts clicked into place. “That in nearly every single life, you’ve come across a man with the same description: red hair and a long scar on his face? And that almost every life has ended tragically?” 

“What exactly are you implying?” Bill asked as he folded his hands on the table.

“I’m implying that a good handful of Dipper’s deaths have had some sort of outside influence. Don’t you find it weird that you’ve never passed the age of twenty-five yet? Look at your life in the 70’s. You were weeks away from turning twenty-six and you killed yourself because your therapist, a _red_ _haired_ , _scared_ man, told you that you were crazy and gave you medication which made you suicidal. You’re now one day away from turning twenty-six and you’re being hunted down by someone who doesn’t want you to turn twenty-six.” Mabel mimed knocking her knuckles against her head. “Hello? Anybody home in those thick, immortal skulls of yours? Can’t you see the connection?” She drawled out watching as the two turned to look at each other.

“Where the fuck was she in 1976?” Bill asked, causing her to laugh. 

“Not born yet, hon.” She said with a teasing wink as she stood up from the table, cracking her back. “Anyway, I’m meeting Candy and Grenda and we’re heading out to the city for drinks, so don’t die while I’m gone, alright? We’ve got a birthday to celebrate tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she left the room heading for the staircase. Dipper watched as she left and gasped as Bill pulled him off his seat and into his lap.

Bill leaned in, whispering in his ear softly. “You know darling, we haven’t had a night together since 75’. Maybe we should stay in tonight and have a bit of-” He paused gently nipping at Dipper’s ear causing the brunette to shudder. “fun.”

“Wait until I leave to get nasty, please.” Mabel shouted from the front door. Dipper jumped up and off of Bill’s lap and made his way over to her quickly. She let out a laugh as he started forcing her through the door with a massive blush. “Have fun bro-bro.” She called out as he slammed the door and she doubled over laughing before she finally left. 

“Well that absolutely killed the mood,” Bill remarked as he wrapped his arms around Dipper gently. A chuckle left Dipper’s lips as he turned to face Bill. He placed a kiss on his husband's cheek before blushing.

“Okay, so I know there’s a crazy psychopath trying to murder me,” He paused and bit his lip before looking back to meet Bill’s gaze. “But do you think maybe we can go out tonight? I mean the last night we went out on a date was,” Dipper paused once more as he counted back in his head. “1691-ish?” 

Bill placed a kiss on Dipper’s forehead and looked down into his shining eyes. “Of course we can. Where do you have in mind?” He asked looking at Dipper who tilted his head in thought.

His eyes lit up as he turned to Bill with a smile. “Why don’t we go to Greasy’s?” 

“Greasy’s?” Bill questioned as he looked at his husband concerned. 

Dipper chuckled and gave him a nod. “The diner here in town.” He explained. Bill gave a short laugh and nodded.

“We can do that, if that’s what you want to do.” The blonde replied with a happy smile. 

Soon the pair were sitting in a sticky booth and eating the best pancakes that Gravity Falls could provide - which, let’s be honest, aren’t all that great - but Bill and Dipper couldn’t care less. They were together once more and happy. 

“Tell me what you did in between finding me,” Dipper said after a while of simple conversation. “You know all about my past lives, but I only know bits and pieces about what happened in yours after the late 1600s.”

Bill hummed thoughtfully before speaking. “After you first died, I stayed in Massachusetts for a few years but after Sarah was killed,” Bill reached across the table and grabbed Dipper’s hand. “I had no reason to stay so I put my medical skills to good use in France, where the plague was wreaking devastation and I found you for the first time. I stayed until the plague passed before moving back to America. By this time the American Revolution was under way and I was a doctor in Yorktown where I found you once more before you slipped away. After that I traveled the world a bit. I’m fluent in just about any language now.” Bill said with a wink. “I came back to the states, New York City for a while, before heading toward California and then Michigan, as you know. Soon I ended up here. I was looking for an eternal flower when we met in the woods.”

Dipper nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “How did you know where I would be every time?”

“I never knew for sure. I just had this….feeling. Almost like it was….” Bill trailed off. 

“Fate?” Dipper finished for him. 

“Yeah, fate.” Bill said quietly. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Dipper saw the same red Ford pickup truck from earlier driving by outside the diner window. “Bill! Look!”

Bill followed Dipper’s gaze, spotting the truck as well. He grabbed Dipper’s other hand, tugging him up and out of the booth. 

“Let’s go.”


	18. Come my darling, homeward bound

Dipper and Bill quickly exited the diner after leaving cash on the table, and made their way into their own vehicle to follow the truck. Dipper tailed from a decent distance trying to make it not obvious that they were following someone. They made it to the outskirts of the town - he was pretty positive where the driver was headed - but he didn’t want to be right.

Yet of course, his suspicions were confirmed when the red truck stopped before the abandoned mine entrance. They watched a red haired man get out and look around before entering the mines. A few minutes passed before they pulled up to the entrance as well. As Dipper went to unbuckle, Bill stopped him.

“What are you doing?” He asked as Bill leaned in silencing him with a kiss. He rested his forehead on Dipper’s with a low sigh.

“You aren’t coming with me.” Bill said softly.

Dipper looked at him like he was stupid. “Excuse me?”

“I said-”

“I heard what you said, stupid. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not. If I die, I’ll just respawn.” Dipper replied, giving him a pointed look as Bill let out an annoyed groan.

“Please never say that again.” 

“Only if you stop whining about me coming with.” Dipper demanded.

“Fine, let’s go.” Bill relented.

“Thank you.”

The pair stepped out of the car and Dipper grabbed a flash light from the back seat. He made his way over to Bill who was standing at the entrance to the mine. The blonde reached out grabbing Dipper’s hand before they made their way into the unknown.

They climbed their way up, keeping an eye out as they went along following the tracks along the ground. The red headed man was nowhere in sight as they trekked their way out onto the bridge. As they looked across the bridge to the next part of the mine, Bill let out a sigh.

“There is no way in hell he could’ve gotten over there so fast. That’s impossible even for me.” He remarked as they scanned the area. 

They were nearly half way across the bridge when they heard the voice.

“Well, well, well, looks like I’ve found a Cursed Child.” He said with a grin before a disturbing laugh left his lips. Bill took a step back pulling Dipper behind him. They only had ten minutes left to midnight. He just had to keep Dipper alive until then. 

“Doctor Von Karma, how- how are you still so young? You were my age in the seventies…” Dipper trailed off as he began to connect the dots. The man standing before them had the voice of Bertrum, the long scar of Major General Von Holt, and the same disheveled appearance as the man at the bar - Beau Von Stein. He drove the same truck that hit him in the 50’s and had the same bold red hair that Dipper had seen fleeing from the fire at the flower shop.

And then it finally all clicked when Bill said: 

“Baron Von Northwest, how the hell are you still alive?” Bill snarled as he glared at the man. Another set of ugly laughs came from Baron as his demented gaze met Bill’s.

“Same way as you, dearie. I killed three people and offered their blood to the Hanging Tree. You should have made that connection when Sarah died.” He gloated as a giggle left his lips. Dipper let out a gasp. Baron had not only killed him four times - but also his first mother. 

“Why, why do this?” Dipper cried out. The man turned to look at him.

A crooked smile dawned on his face. “Your husband killed the love of my life. It was only fair that he suffered in return.” 

“You’re responsible for the deaths of almost a hundred children! You’re a monster!” Dipper shouted as he gripped tightly at the back of Bill’s shirt, listening as the man only laughed.

“I believed in the sacred purity of the Hanging Tree at one point in my life. But after I became immortal, I found out that I just liked killing people. Children, adults, it doesn’t matter. I enjoy the power of knowing that I can control whether or not someone lives or dies. And now, it’s time for you to die once again, Mason Cipher.” With the words said, he lunged at Dipper. 

Bill pushed Dipper out of the way, taking the blow to himself instead. “Darling, run!” He cried out as he pulled the knife from his stomach. His cry however, was much too late.

Baron charged at Dipper as he turned to run. He grabbed Dipper by the back of his jacket and jerked hard, causing Dipper to tumble backwards, teetering on the edge of the rickety bridge. As he was caught off balance, he felt two hands push on his back and he went flying into the night.

“NO!” He heard Bill cry out. 

So this was it. Once again, Mason was about to die. 

He had had a good life. His parents had loved him, he had a wonderful childhood with his sister, and he even had amazing adventures with his great uncles.

He knew he could find Bill again. And that's all that mattered; he just hoped Bill would be able to take care of Baron so his next life could be his last. Dipper closed his eyes as he plummeted faster and faster. 

And that’s when he heard it.

The sound of the bell tower beginning to toll.

With difficulty, he flicked his wrist and looked at the watch face:  _ 12:00 AM.  _

He was officially twenty-six and according to Bill, he was now immortal as well. Dipper looked to the quickly approaching woods below and silently prayed he’d land on something that’d cushion his fall. 

Otherwise, this was going to be very painful. 


	19. When all is lost

Bill scrambled to the edge of the bridge looking for any sign of Dipper but couldn’t find one. The only sound ringing out through the stillness of the night was that of Baron’s psychotic laughter

He turned violently to glare at the man. This had gone on long enough.

_ It was time to end things once and for all. _

Bill stood up placing a hand on his abdomen as he checked the stab wound. Nothing remained but the bloodstain on his shirt. 

“You always were a pretentious son of a bitch who never fought fair, Baron.” Bill sneered.

“Says the man who turned to witchcraft to revive his dead husband.” Baron retorted as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes calculating as he watched Bill.

“At least I loved my husband enough to try and bring him back.” Bill knew he had hit a nerve when he saw Baron’s expression go dark. Perfect. “At least I didn’t desert him like a coward.” He added as he watched Baron pop a vein in anger. He just needed to piss him off enough to catch him off guard. “I’m just glad I wasn’t the one to marry the town whore.” Bill continued.

Baron let out a scream of rage as he rushed at Bill. A smirk graced Bill’s lips as he dodged furious punch after punch. Anger makes people slow. Something Bill had learned over his three hundred years of existence. 

Bill brought his arm back rapidly as he socked Baron in the jaw. The man let out a cry of pain as he stumbled back clutching his face. Bill pivoted his foot in place as Baron ran at him once more. 

He dropped low, sweeping Baron’s legs out from beneath him. The man stumbled onto his ass as Bill knocked him back stepping on his chest. He looked down at Baron who was still grinning like a lunatic.

It felt as if someone had grabbed the back of his shirt as he was suddenly tossed a good distance across the bridge. He hissed in pain as he tried standing up, the new gashes along his body taking quite a drain on him as they healed.

He looked back over to see Baron getting up, his eyes a deep black. Bill knew what had happened rather quickly. Baron was using black magic. Something Bill hadn’t touched in a very long time, not since he’d become immortal. He knew the cost of playing with fire, yet he was cornered and had no other option.

Bill’s eyes turned a brilliant blue as he summoned hell fire. Immortal vs. immortal was one thing, but magic wielding immortal vs. magic wielding immortal was a whole other story.

  
  


\---------

  
  


_ Son of a bitch,  _ Dipper thought dazedly. 

A pained groan left his lips as he opened his eyes. 

_ THAT HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER.  _

Dipper moaned out in pain as he looked up at the broken branches above him, a clear path to the bridge above. A blue speck igniting up above caught his attention. He strained his eyes to see it better, which did absolutely nothing. 

He tried to move his limbs and nothing happened, so he waited for a few minutes, watching the blue spark on the bridge dance around. Slowly but surely the feeling came back into his limbs and eventually he had enough feeling to roll over which he did successfully after two tries. 

It felt like he’d turned into goddamn Humpty Dumpty and this was  _ after _ the king’s men had tried to put him back together again. The fact that he was covered in tree sap didn’t help either, and the occasional prick from a rogue pine needle was not what he needed at that moment. Everything ached and every bone in his body cried out as he forced himself to stand up. 

He stumbled his way through the woods using the bridge as his guide until he finally saw his car in the distance. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he limped over to his car. He popped the truck and began rummaging, hoping to find something useful to help Bill. A sharp sensation hit his finger and he quickly pulled his hand away to see his finger bleeding minimally. 

Dipper pulled the sweater out of the car to see one of Mabel’s machete’s lying there. He tossed the sweater aside as he pulled out the weapon. 

_ This. This’ll do.  _ He thought before looking back up to the top of the bridge.  _ God dammit, now I have to climb up there again.  _

  
  


\-----------

Bill was running out of energy, fast. With Baron having been alive as long as he had, it put them on equal footing, especially since Bill was out of touch with his black magic. He panted heavily as blood continued to drip from his wounds; his regeneration was slowing down the more tired he got. 

“Awww tired so soon, old man?” Baron scoffed with a grin on his face. Bill spit out blood and saliva that’d been pooling in his mouth, which only gave Baron a reason to laugh more. 

The blonde just needed something sharp, if his many years as a doctor had taught him anything. People can make a comeback from a heart problem, but not a decapitation. He had to win this; he had to make sure that Dipper would make it to his twenty-six birthday in his next life. 

“BILL!” The blonde looked passed Baron to see Dipper at the entrance to the mines, exhausted, limping, and covered in his own blood. 

He was immortal. He was finally immortal! Bill nearly cried in joy.

  
  


“Catch!” Dipper shouted as he tossed a blade high into the air. It flew over Baron landing a mere few feet away from Bill. He felt sweat run down the back of his neck.

_ Note to self: Never piss off my husband unless I want a knife embedded in my body. _

He ran for the blade and charged at Baron. Now that he had something sharp, it was go time. Baron was only able to block so much before it became in vain. Bill went for his neck and felt the blood cover his body as he fully removed the other immortal's head. He stood up and tossed it beside the body. 

For one last time he summoned the hell fire and let it cover the body; the smell was horrendous as the corpse incinerated. Once the flames were out Bill made his way across the bridge. He watched Dipper limp forward as he met him halfway. Bill quickly pulled Dipper into his embrace as they collapsed to the ground. Tears fell from his eyes as he peppered Dipper’s face with kisses.

He scanned Dipper up and down and snorted as he began to laugh. “Awww darling look at you, my own personal pine tree.”

“Oh fuck off, Bill. That fucking hurt. 2,000 feet is a long way to fall.” Dipper pouted as his husband simply laughed.

“Not for us, darling.” He remarked, placing a kiss on Dipper’s forehead.

Dipper groaned as he tried to push Bill away, fighting off a smile. “Fuck off.”

“I love you my darling Pine Tree.” Bill said softly as he tightened his grip against Dipper’s straining attempts at freedom. The blonde chuckled as Dipper let out a sigh.

“I love you too. Bill.”

It was over, finally over.


	20. Then all is found

The house was silent as night had finally blessed them with sleep. Dipper was snuggled into Bill when he heard his favorite  _ and _ least favorite sound ring out. 

Once again the baby monitor was going off. 

A sigh escaped his lips as he left the warmth of their bed and made his way into the hall. He turned a corner and walked into the nursery. 

“Why hello my little Rosemary. Did you have a nightmare, sweetheart?” He cooed softly as he picked up the tiny two month old baby.

“Shh, shh, shh. There, there my little flower, you’re alright.” He whispered gently as he swayed. Her fusing continued and he let out a sigh, thinking back to his mother's Sarah and Dahlia and decided it was worth a shot. 

“Where the northwind meets the sea, there’s a river full of memories. Sleep, my darling, safe and sound.” Her cries quieted as she began drifting to sleep in his arms. Dipper smiled, placing a small kiss on his daughter’s birthmark. “For in this river all is found.” He placed her down in her crib and watched as she curled into her blanket. 

He smiled down at his little girl before turning back to the door only to have the shit scared out of him by Bill who was silently standing there. Dipper made his way out of the room and back to their bedroom with Bill behind him.

“You scared the everloving shit out of me.” He whisper shouted at the man as he poked his chest. Bill let out a muffled chuckle before sweeping Dipper into his arms. He held the brunette close as he swayed softly.

“You got up and I was cold, lonely, and heart broken without you by my side my beloved Pine Tree.” He cried out dramatically with a light chuckle as he heard Dipper huff in his arms.

Dipper pushed his arms away as an irritated sigh escaped his lips. “That nickname has got to go.” 

“Never, darling.” Bill replied as he gently brought Dipper’s left hand to his lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles. He admired the golden band lying on his husband’s finger with a smile. He’d purchased that band over three hundred years ago, and it still looked as if it were new. “I can’t believe we’ve been married for over three hundred years.” He added with a grin. Dipper scoffed, rolling his eyes, and gave his husband a pointed glare. 

“Yeah, and I can’t believe I’ve put up with you for over three hundred years.” The brunette teased. Bill clutched his heart in false pain.

“You wound me my love, how could you do this to me?” He cried out as he fell back on the bed. Dipper chuckled lightly as he sat on the bed beside his spouse. 

He laid his head back down onto Bill’s chest as the blonde wrapped his arms around him. 

“I love you, Mason Cipher.” He said softly, watching Dipper go red in the cheeks as a smile formed on his lips.

“I love you too, William Cipher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lowkey notice for everyone. But momma Noble here is not a one-trick pony. 
> 
> Translation: I’ve written other stories (Billdip stories) feel free to read them, leave comments and kudos. They fuel my red-bull induced 3 am binge writing.


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